


Inktober 2020

by CureCocktail



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anthology, Autopsies, Diverse Genres, Gen, Horror, Isolation, Lovecraftian, Mystical Creatures, Outer Space, Psychological Horror, Some Romance, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 42,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CureCocktail/pseuds/CureCocktail
Summary: This is a collection of short stories based on the prompts of Inktober 2020
Comments: 70
Kudos: 12





	1. Day 1: Fish

**Author's Note:**

> As my wife has started Inktober, she issued me a challenge to write a short story based on the daily prompt.

The weather had been kind to the small crew of The Magdalene, a fishing boat a good part out from the shores of Portland, Maine. The amount of fish had been decent for the day and the crew were getting ready to haul in the last catch and head back, since it was getting rather dark out. Edward, the skipper of the ship had left the last bit of work to the crewmen and retired to the bridge to start up the navigation and prepare for their return to harbor. Back out on deck, the three crewmen stood around the net they had just pulled up and all seemed to gaze into the mess of fish writhing about. Somewhere between the mass of fish something stared back at them. All three could have sworn that they locked eyes with a thing, but none of them spoke up until Diego, the oldest of the three spoke up:

“Is it  _ una sirena? _ ”

Jay, the newest addition to the team laughed at his superstitious colleague and shook the net a bit to get a better view.

“Naw, it seems like some sort of strange jellyfish? Maybe some sort of bottomfeeder? It’s hard to tell...”

Connor, who had been with The Magdalene for the longest time had no idea what the other two were talking about, whatever it was it just seemed like a slightly larger fish. He did notice that the skin had a strange multicolored hue that seemed to morph the longer he stared at it. And it’s eyes. They had looked almost human for a moment. He perished the thought as being a trick of the mind brought on by the long day and the dimmed light. He was about to get the others to start hauling the fish into storage, when he noticed Diego looking distracted by something off the side of the boat. 

“Hey, Diego! Are you with us?”

Diego didn’t answer and just held up a finger asking them to be quiet for a moment. 

“Escucha, don’t you hear that? They’re singing.”

Connor, giving Diego the benefit of doubt, strained to hear, but nothing broke through the sound of the ocean and wind around them. Looking over at Jay he had seemed strangely quiet, but maybe he was just exhausted. Connor decided that the guys needed some rest, so the sooner they could be done and turn the boat back to shore the better. 

“Guys, come on! Let’s get this last catch into the bag and we can all go home, alright?”

He waited for confirmation but both Diego and Jay seemed frozen in place. 

“GUYS!” 

Still no response. Diego seemed to slowly make his way over to the side of the ship still listening intently to the elusive music. Connor shifted his focus away from the net and Jay and looked over at Diego, trying to call him back to them. He sighed with relief when Diego turned around until his back was against the railing of the ship. Connor shook his head and motioned him back with a tired wave of his hand, but Diego didn’t move an inch. He simply stood with his back against the ocean eyes wide open and a pleasant smile on his face.

“Don’t you hear them? They want me to join them. They are singing for me and it warms me inside.”

Before Connor could say anything, Diego quickly fell backwards over the railing and disappeared down the side of the ship.

“NO, Diego!!” 

Connor ran over to where his colleague had fallen over but he couldn’t see anything. No splash, no body, nothing. Like he had just vanished. Looking back at it, Diego didn’t seem to fall naturally as much as he had been dragged by invisible hands over the side. Checking with his foot, he realized the deck had been dry where he stood. There was no way he could have slipped. Connor didn’t have a lot of time to think about it before he was interrupted by a yell coming from the cabin. He turned his head to look and noticed Jay standing in the cabin alone with his back turned. He seemed to be breathing erratically as his shoulders noticeably bopped up and down. Connor hurried over to the door of the cabin and peered inside. Edward sat propped up against the back wall of the cabin motionless with his head lowered. The first thing that seemed different was the dark red clumps of blood that had stained Edward’s bushy beige beard and dyed his clothes red from a deep gash in his throat. 

“Jay! What the fuck did you do?!” 

Connor backed away from the door as he saw Jay raise the bloody knife in his right hand and turned toward him. 

“Connor, you don’t understand. We have a treasure in our net. I’m going to be rich! Edward wanted to throw it overboard. But look what happened to him!”

Jay’s voice raised to a maddening shriek as he kicked the dead body over. Then he stepped towards Connor.

“We can… share, Connor. Do you realize what this could mean for us? No more fishing. No more ocean. No rainy days under the deck, soaking. No more coming home stinking of fish guts. It never really goes away, you know? No matter how much you clean…”

Jay took the knife to his shirt and slowly cut it open across his chest.

“No matter how much you scrape…”

He plunged it a bit deeper, puncturing his skin.

“No matter how much you shed!”

He lunged towards Connor, who managed to evade him and run back to the middle of the deck.

“Get the fuck away from me, Jay!”

Jay had scrambled to his feet and was slowly making his way across the deck towards Connor with the knife raised in front of him.

“You don’t see it, Connor? Look into the net. It’s a magnificent creature! Museums, scientists, private collectors, all would line up to see this thing. And I will be there to cash in on it. With or without you!”

Connor turned his head slightly to look into the net, he felt the adrenaline rushing around his body, but still the creature in the net still looked like an ordinary fish to him. The multicolored hue had dimmed, since the creature would be close to or already dead at this point. 

“You’re wrong, Jay! It’s just a normal fucking dead fish!”

Jay looked over at the net with desperate eyes. He quickly made his way to the operating system and released the contents, which sprawled half dead fish all over the deck between the two men. Somewhere in the middle of them was the creature in question. Connor had a chance to see it better now and besides some strange features that could easily be found in other fish it was nothing special. Nothing worth killing a man over. Jay, however, felt very differently. He tripped over fish and crawled on his hands and knees squashing fish guts underneath him as he made his way to the creature. Silently weeping, he cradled it in his arms rocking back and forth, while he occasionally muttered to himself:

“All mine… no more… all mine… no more…”

Connor took the opportunity and circled Jay until he was confident enough that he could get the drop on him. Grabbing a nearby metal tool he swung it at Jay’s head knocking him out cold. After tying him up and making sure he couldn’t escape, Connor returned to the cabin and turned the boat towards the shore. It would be some time before he would reach harbor, but as he radioed ahead he looked out across the deck and noticed the creature still lying where Jay had dropped it. For a moment he stopped with the radio still raised as he watched the creature slowly begin to glow with that same hue he saw earlier, but something was different. It’s eyes were human-like again, but now it began to move, grow. Change.


	2. Day 2: Wisp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man stumbles through a city somewhere in Europe lost and alone. He's led into an alley by a wisp of smoke from a lit cigarette...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of Inktober was Wisp and I felt like I wanted to do a sort of minimalist take on the folklore myth of Will O' the Wisp giving it a contemporary Urban Fantasy spin

He was walking down the streets of a random European town. He had been to so many places that it all seemed to blend together. The cobblestone streets and ornately decorated storefronts holding up sturdy brick walls offered him no explanation. He felt like he could have been in Germany, but it could just as well have been a foreign planet to him. It was night time and the darkness seeped out from tight alleys between the pillars of light that made of the buildings lining the streets. He was walking alone. Maybe his friends had left him at a bar? The way he had trouble focusing indicated that he would have consumed a substantial amount of alcohol. Running his finger along a crevice in a wall, he made his way to what he hoped would be his hotel. Or a station. Or people. 

He had walked endlessly in his own mind, when he was stopped by a strange new sensation, that parted the hazy imbalance of light and dark around him. A wisp of cigarette smoke curled around the corner from an alley in front of him. It appeared almost cartoonish the way it slithered towards him unaffected by wind or common sense. Like it would grab hold of his chin and float him away like an old Tom & Jerry cartoon. Walking closer to the corner he fanned the smoke out of the way and stuck his head out to see where the smoke was coming from. Some way into the alley he could barely make out the silhouette of a woman dressed in all black. The only way he could tell she was there was by the light from the cigarette in her mouth. Happy to see another person he took a step forward into the alley.

“Excuse me, Miss?” 

The lady slowly turned her head towards him and then retreated casually further back into the alley and darkness. Determined not to let the one person he had seen tonight get away, he decided to follow her, but slowly since he might have spooked her. 

“Miss, please. I’m not really sure where I am.”

He stepped further into the darkness and thought he had lost her for a while, until he saw that lit cigarette burning through the shadows again. It was drawing him in like a moth to a flame. The light was his only way back to society at this point. 

He didn’t think to look back from where he came at that point, since the place he came from seemed as unfamiliar as the maze of alleys he was being led through by following the cigarette burn and the wisps of smoke. 

The alleys seemed endless as he continued to be out of reach of the woman, but close enough to always see her. Every time he thought he was getting close to her she vanished only to appear further away from him as the brick walls began to close around him. It was too dark to see where he was walking and a wrong step sent him tumbling down an open manhole. 

When he came to again he felt a sharp pain when he tried to move. Looking down he noticed his legs were sitting in an unnatural position. He must have broken them as he fell into the sewers. He wondered if he should call for help, but who would hear him besides the woman? He had been swallowed up by the dark underbelly of the city, led by the beacon of a single cinder from a lit cigarette. As the manhole cover was dragged closed somewhere above his head with a loud metallic thud he truly felt the weight of the dark shadows that seemed to wash over him. He had never wondered how it would feel to drown in the dark lakes of the countryside trying to catch supernatural lights, but the heavy pressure on his chest and the way the shadows forced themselves into his mouth with every panicked breath gave him a clear understanding of what it would have been like. 


	3. Day 3: Bulky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has been a bodybuilder for a couple of years surrounding himself with ideals of beauty in the form of art and statues. When he finds a massage oil in the mail he decides to try it out.

Alexander had honed his body for around 2 years with an extreme exercise routine and an unforgiving diet to make sure every single muscle was perfectly toned and defined. His home had been filled with statues showing off the human form and Renaissance art had taken the place of mirrors. Regardless of the cold, marbled interior of his home, he seemed content with his lifestyle to his friends and family and all were ready to support him as much as they could. He had been tempted by the easy path of steroids many times during the 2 years, but never once did he partake in it. For him it was the thrill of chiseling his body into the perfect form. A body that could stand among his many statues as their equal or even superior. Some of his acquaintances would occasionally send samples to him or invite him to join them in trying a new drug, but to no avail. 

Today was that type of day, as Alexander had found a rather polished wooden box in his mailbox. The box didn’t have any indicators or address on, but the sleek design had intrigued Alexander, so he brought it back into his home. Upon opening the box he found a small clay bottle with a leather strap and corkscrew that sealed its contents. He had been reading about the ancient civilization around the Mediterranean Sea as his collection of statues had grown and recognized the shape of the bottle to be inspired by the Aryballos, a type of pottery used in Ancient Greece by athletes to store oils. Alexander amused himself by the level of detail as the side depicted two men striking an identical pose, however one was depicted in a classic black figure technique whereas the other was shown with a red figure technique, both techniques were made popular in Ancient Greece when people were being featured on pottery. The ancient Greek aesthetic continued with a name painted in a band going all around the bottle both above and below the figures, creating a sort of frame. It was hard to make it out, but after consulting a Greek alphabet it appeared to say  _ Agalmalos _ . Searching for the name online didn’t really bring up anything useful, so Alexander made the decision to carefully inspect the contents of the bottle. He grabbed a glass and pulled out the cork making sure not to get it too close in case something went wrong. He poured out a bit of the liquid inside and inspected it in the glass. From what he could tell it looked like any ordinary oil you would use for massages or in sport. He thought it might be some sort of really crazy marketing. It wouldn’t be the first time he would receive products to try and feature on his social media. He figured he could check it with a single finger. That way he could more easily fix it if something went wrong, but how bad could oil be? Dipping the tip of his pinky into the liquid and swirling it around for a second didn’t reveal anything to him and after rubbing the small amount that stuck to his fingertip into the skin he figured it might just be regular massage oil in a very stylized package. It did make his skin look shiny and feel great. After some deliberation he figured it couldn’t hurt to give it a more thorough spin. He was in need of some new content for his Instagram anyway and oiled up pictures always yielded the best like ratio. Stripping down to his training briefs he began to pour oil into his hands and lather them up. At first he used it sparingly since the bottle wasn’t that big, but it seemed like there was plenty left every time he poured out more. He started with his arms, making sure to rub it well into his biceps and triceps. He was surprised to feel that it had a sort of cooling effect that made his muscles look and feel tighter and more defined. It wasn’t long until he had covered himself completely and admired himself and the way his body perked up and contracted as he flexed his different muscles from his neck and down to his feet. As he grabbed his camera he noticed that some of the oil had settled in the lines of his palms and had turned into a sort of dark grey mineral-like substance. He didn’t think too much into it, since it might just be some leftover oil mixed in with some dirt on his hands. He would just wash it off in a second. Holding up the camera to take a couple of selfies he noticed that the dark grey lines had formed on both his hands and were now also running down across his wrists and forearms in a pattern that seemed to mimic the veins under his skin. At this point he started to feel like something was a bit off. Setting down the camera to wash himself off, he felt a sudden contraction in his arms and shoulders. It caught him off guard and he almost lost his balance, but he managed to steady himself and placed a hand on his biceps to try and mend it a bit. Not only was it hard as stone, it almost felt cold to the touch. Fearing he might have an allergic reaction to the oil he tried to make his way to his bathroom and shower, but after a couple of steps he felt his calves harden the same way as his arms had and groaning in discomfort he had no choice but to stop in his tracks. It would have made no difference since he felt his feet grow heavy and numb. Alexander was driven to the point of panic as he tried to walk or even move out of his locked position, but without any luck. A sense of dread finally gripped him as he began to notice the skin around the dark grey lines turn almost white. He finally realized what the mineralized substance looked like as it was paired with the new white tone of his skin. His eyes darted around the room from statue to statue and his fears were confirmed: It had a marble like texture that was slowly, but steadily taking over his skin and locking down his limbs and muscles wherever it reached. It even started to reach parts where he hadn’t used the oil and he gasped as he felt his nether parts contract and harden almost fusing into a single lump of marble. He could feel it creep up across his neck and jaw locking down muscles along the way and sealing his mouth shut as his lips were forced together by the marbling. It was almost a mercy when he felt his eyes lock into place gazing at an undefined point in front of him. Finally his hair grew thicker as it seemed like clumps of hair were pushed together so all of it could be encased in a hard shell of marble.

As he stood frozen slowly finding it harder to breathe as the marble in and around his nostrils settled, a single illogical musing crept forward through his frantic thoughts. He would finally be equal, even superior to the body standards and ideals he had surrounded himself with.


	4. Day 4: Radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracy and Madison live in neighboring towns and spend their evenings talking over a two way radio. Tracy has to go to a summer camp and spends the night before leaving talking to Madison

“Tracy? Are you there?”

Madison had curled up by her old 2 way radio next to the small window in the attic. She had brought up some blankets and a cup of hot chocolate that her mom had made for her even though she had told her that at 18 she was perfectly capable of making her own cocoa. The low electric hum from the speaker indicated that she might still be too early. 

Tracy lived in the town over and they had met last summer and spent evenings talking over the radio, since that time Madison’s little brother had picked up the landline and listened in on one of their more private conversations. Mom and dad had been very disappointed with her, but the worst thing that happened was that they always seemed to want to be in the room when she was on the phone. Another reason she had started to set the radio up in the attic. It was almost liberating to have the radio between them. There was no anxiety about accidentally saying something to each other in public or someone thinking they had looked at each other the wrong way. Madison had just taken a sip of her cocoa, when the radio clicked on and Tracy’s voice came through:

“Madison? Sorry, I’m a bit late, over.”

Madison chuckled to herself and picked up the receiver. She always felt a bit warm hearing Tracy’s voice come through for the first time on the radio. 

“I’m here, Trace. Do we really have to say over… over?”

The moments of pause where she waited for response always felt agonizingly long, but Madison felt stupid for thinking that, since it was in fact just a couple of seconds. Tracy giggled at the other end before replying:

“It’s proper radio etiquette, Maddy. Otherwise we would just interrupt each other and that’s how society crumbles.”

Madison couldn’t help but laugh, but didn’t respond as she let Tracy’s voice linger in her head for a while. After a short quiet break, Tracy came through again:

“So, it’s tomorrow… I can’t believe my parents are sending me to some weird summer camp to teach me ‘manners’ as they call it.”

Madison had been dreading this conversation for some time now, since she first heard about the idea to send Tracy to the summer camp. The radio had stayed silent, so Madison decided to guide the conversation to a more positive note.

“Do you know if any of your friends will be there as well, over?”

Tracy replied with a surprising revelation:

“No, I haven’t heard of any other kid from over here that would go as well. Is it just gonna be me and a bunch of stuck up old people you think?”

Typical Tracy. She was always the first to call out radio etiquette and the first one to neglect it as well. 

“I dunno, Trace. That would be really weird. How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure. Dad won’t tell me anything about it.”

Madison felt like it sounded absolutely strange, but she didn’t want to ruin what could be their last radio conversation in a long time. 

“I’ll miss you, Tracy. But I’m sure you’ll be back soon and we can continue this just like always.” 

The line remained quiet for a bit too long, but Tracy finally replied:

“But what if this shouldn’t be the standard? Locked away in attics and closets so we can finally express ourselves. I want to walk around with you, you know. Hold your hand without being worried about who’s looking.”

Madison looked down at her hand and ran a finger across her palm. They had held hands maybe once or twice. There was that time they had gone to the lake together. Tracy had looked so beautiful smiling in the sun, but it was the way she had given Madison a secret look as their fingers had interlocked far below the surface of the lake. 

“I know, Tracy. I thought for sure it would change when we had both turned 18, but it all still seems the same. Maybe society should crumble just a bit, so it can be rebuilt into something better.” 

The attic remained quiet for some time after that. Madison didn’t feel like it was the perfect time to talk and instead turned to look out at the night sky through the small window. Sometimes when it felt like they were far apart she thought to herself that they were close enough to at least see the same moon and stars. 

“You know, Trace?”

Madison had picked up the receiver again and mulled over her words as she continued:

“I read somewhere that the stars that people mapped out and looked at hundreds of years ago are not exactly the same as the ones we’re looking at now. The stars are always moving and changing. It’s a very slow process, but some time in the future people will look back and see how much it has changed and maybe they will have an easier time understanding it. Maybe there aren’t enough people who look up at the stars and think that it has changed. They just see that the stars are above them and that’s how it’s always been, because they haven’t been told differently.”

It was almost a relief when she heard Tracy calmly chuckle in that specific way she did right before she would say something embarrassingly cute, like:

“Maddy, I hope one day we can be the stars that people watch.” 

Madison almost felt her heart skip a bit and her cheeks felt strangely warm. The two girls continued to talk over the radio for a bit, before they had to cut the line so they wouldn’t raise suspicion. But Madison felt happy that they had gotten the time to talk a bit before Tracy had to leave for however long the camp would end up being. 

She still went up to the attic every night and turned on the two way radio. She knew the line was empty, but someday Tracy would be back and her cheerful voice would once again come through the speaker with revolutionary calls for societal destruction and her laugh that made Madison’s heart flutter. But until that day came, she would remain in the attic watching the night sky and waiting for the stars to move.


	5. Day 5: Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan and Ivan work at the circus as a knife throwing act. During a performance Susan notices that Ivan seems a bit different and suddenly the knifes don't hit exactly where they're supposed to.

The circus tent hushed in anticipation as Susan was strapped in against the large board they usually used in the act. Her husband and partner, Ivan, was in charge of the blades that would soon be hurled against her. They had done the routine for years and endured some accidental injuries, but nothing bad. If anything she had grown a better tolerance to the blades and only reacted to them hitting the board around her body when the moment called upon it. Normally as she was strapped in by her husband he would give her a reassuring smile, but it was almost meaningless to her, since he hadn’t missed a throw for more than 2 years. However this night as he strapped her in, he had looked more concentrated and thoughtful. Focusing more on the areas around her than making sure he connected with her. She wondered what could have been wrong, but nothing came to mind. She had talked about trying out for the acrobatic team, but reassured Ivan that it would not make any difference to their act together. She centered herself and returned her attention to the act in progress as her husband took his place in front of her with his knives displayed on a highly decorated stand. The audience seemed thrilled and nervous murmur stirred from around the stage. Susan had nothing to worry about as she knew exactly how the act would play out. Ivan locked eyes with her for a second before getting ready to throw. The first knife would be an easy target to get things started. It would hit the board on her left side a bit from her hip. Nothing that could even resemble a close call. The board vibrated slightly as the blade embedded itself in the place where it was supposed to and the audience gasped more from the sudden loud noise than the actual feat of missing her. Ivan picked up another knife and made a big deal about aiming it, but Susan was already sure where it would hit: Right under her right arm that was raised up with the straps. The blade connected to the board with a loud and sudden crack and Susan reacted as she had rehearsed a million times before. Looking down at the blade sticking out of the board under her arm, she noticed that the placement seemed a bit odd. It was higher than she was used to and therefore closer to her arm. In an act like this there’s room for small errors and Ivan had looked a bit serious already. Maybe it was just a small flop. There had been closer calls before, even on stage. She made sure to double check with Ivan and locked eyes with him nodding slightly as to ask if he was doing okay. He had already grabbed the next knife and, while pretending to aim the knife in a stretched arm, he nodded once in confirmation. Susan exhaled completely as she would need to bring a great reaction to the next knife throw. It would connect to the left of her head just above her shoulder and left arm. She made sure to make a surprised yelp as the knife struck the board next to her head, the sound was loud enough to surprise her a bit, but she had to overplay it a bit at that point. Out of her peripheral vision she noticed that the knife handle stuck out at an angle. As she turned her head to look down, she noticed that the blade had caught her costume and made an almost superficial cut in her dress and the skin by her shoulder. Ivan was better than this. Was he doing okay? She looked over at him, but he had carried on as if nothing was wrong. She decided to just keep going, since the last knife would be very safe. She had parted her legs stretching her skirt a bit tighter in anticipation of the climax. The last knife would be thrown between her legs and stick her skirt to the board, so when she was released from the board a tear away seam would make sure the skirt stayed revealing her leotard underneath to applause and laughter from the audience. Ivan was already winding up for the throw and Susan had made sure to part her legs a bit more than normally just in case. She noticed however that Ivan was not looking at the targeted area in the middle of her skirt, but much higher. She was just about to yell out, when he released the blade that was aiming right for her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be revisited at a later point. Hint: Look forward to Day 9.


	6. Day 6: Rodent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suburb of Masque Rouge finds itself with a rat infestation. They call on an exterminator, but something goes wrong when he doesn't seem to leave.

The first sign of what was about to befall the residents at the small suburb of Masque Rouge came when Josh, the kid from down the road was viciously mangled by a sewer rat coming up through the toilet, where, unfortunately, little Josh was sitting. The rat returned back to the sewers before it could be killed, but that only sent his mom, Sharon, into a frenzy. She began to stir up a storm to get the neighbors to chip in for an exterminator as tension grew along with some horrible finds of half eaten pets that had been dragged halfway down storm drains and into bushes. The greatest shock to the small community came as they found Bolt, a healthy Golden Retriever huddled in the back of his dog house rabid and missing chunks of fur flesh. As they pulled him out they saw that the damages were great enough that they could see bones and even tiny hints of entrails through the bites. No ordinary rats could have caused this and the very next day, Sharon got her way as an exterminator truck pulled up. 

It had been 3 days since the exterminator came. And he hadn’t left since. The residents would notice him late at night pacing up and down the street and following him were waves of slithering rodents, mostly rats, some had sworn they saw gophers, squirrels and other types among them. Everybody stayed indoors, since they witnessed Jack Taylor try to send his Doberman after the exterminator. It hardly made it across the front lawn before it was swallowed up in a wave of rodents in an instant. It’s cries for pain could be heard for almost an hour as the rodents tore into it signalling to people that any opposition would be met with an agonizing and slow end. As the second night had begun, the exterminator had stopped in front of a house. Some of the residents recognized it as the old couple, The Freeman’s house. They lived alone only getting occasional visits from children and grandchildren and luckily they were alone that night. It had begun with the rats surrounding the house. Squirrels scaled the walls and looked for cracks or openings along the roof, while some of the burrowing rodents were clawing away at the foundation. The rats pushed themselves through every single opening they could find until they all converged on a hole in the outer wall. It was a bizarre sight as all the rodents instantly stopped what they were doing and all made their way to the same hole flooding into the house in no time. What little scuffle was quickly over as the old couple succumbed quickly to the invading plague. Some of the residents witnessing the horrific events were treated with what would soon be an inevitable end as the rodents parted ways and forced their way into the neighboring houses, each wave numbering at almost the same as the first. This continued for 5 houses in total, wiping out almost an entire row. 

It was now the third night and the exterminator had halted his procession of pests in front of Ben’s house. Ben could almost assume what would happen next. He was young and lived alone, but he knew that his neighbors were elderly and children, among them poor Josh who seemed to have been the start of this whole mess. If his house got taken over by the creatures they would all be next. He didn’t have much of a plan when he cracked his door open and yelled out:

“I need to know why?”

He could see that the exterminator cocked his head as if he was intrigued by the strange request. Ben noticed that the rodents were staying back, so he took his chance and walked outside. 

“I want to know why this is happening?” 

The exterminator walked forward onto Ben’s front lawn to meet him in front of the house and replied in a menacingly scraping voice.

“Humans are strange beings, don’t you think?”

Ben didn’t answer at first but looked past the exterminator to see if the rodents were staying in place, noticing that they had not moved at all he turned his attention back to the entity in front of him. Looking at him closer he had a hard time pinpointing anything about the person other than that they looked human and male. His hair was hidden under a hood and his face covered by a mask. Ben did notice how the exterminator towered over him threatening to crush him from just the weight of his shadow. He mustered up the courage to answer him.

“Enlighten me.”

The exterminator fixed his gaze on him and pierced him like tiny darts pricking his entire body.

“Some 700 years ago rodents, such as rats helped end the lives of almost half the population in Europe. They continued to spread deadly diseases for 500 years and now you keep them as pets. Inviting them into your homes, letting your children play with them. Taking them with you into public. Why would you befriend something that helped destroy you?”

Ben was bewildered. The rats people kept as pets were far from the disgusting creatures that had filled the street in front of his house. He tried to come up with an answer that might sound pleasing to the pillar in front of him, but his voice showed no confidence:

“It’s not like the Middle Ages anymore. People aren’t dying of plague anymore. We have vaccines now. Rats are bred to be pets now, they can grow up in controlled environments.” 

The exterminator cackled behind his mask and turned his head towards the house next door where Sharon and Josh lived.

“Funny you mention vaccines…”

Ben was about to question what he meant, but then it dawned on him. Josh never seemed to play with others outside, he didn’t seem to go to school and Sharon… 

“That bitch!” 

Sharon had more than once pushed Ben to try some essential oils when he mentioned he had been feeling ill. The exterminator seemed to have read his mind and turned his head to look at him again.

“You have intrigued me, Ben. But as you can see: I am the plague. And I always find a weak cell.”

He turned his back on Ben and began to walk back to his rodents, but stopped for a moment and said:

“I like you, Ben. I haven’t had a chance to talk in so long. I will give you extra time to prepare.”

Ben rushed back inside his house. He did his best to fortify himself, but to his horror he could already hear the scratches in the walls and under the floorboards. It wasn’t long before the rodents were storming in from every opening they could find. They latched onto his arms, scratching and biting. Whenever he tried to sweep them off even more would take their place. His whole body ached as he flung himself to the floor trying to get the rodents off, but nothing could stop them. His final agonizing moments were the feeling of rats crawling under his skin and feasting on his entrails, before he finally lost all feeling and succumbed to the overwhelming plague.


	7. Day 7: Fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse Callier is a young writer living in Montmartre at the start of the 1900's. He has finally gotten a chance to visit the cultural hot spot of the area: The cabaret La Lune Bleue. It will be a night he will never forget

The interior of  _ La Lune Bleue _ was lavishly extravagant. The main part of the cabaret was the ballroom where the tiered stage connected to a larger dancefloor where the best tables formed a sort of semicircle which lined the edge of the dancefloor. Along the walls were deep alcoves with privacy curtains that could be pulled in front of the booth to hide unscrupulous acts from the rest of the patrons. The color theme was a dark night sky blue with golden accents across every metal railing, candlestick and silverware. A newer addition to the ballroom was a new stage curtain adorned with the face of the moon referenced from the newly released short film  _ Le Voyage dans La Lune _ by the visionary Georges  Méliès. It was an artistic wonder to behold when the gemstones used as accents shimmered in the spotlights. It was no wonder that the cabaret boasted having some of the greatest talents of the late 19th century to grace Montmartre with their presence as patrons.

One such talent, or at least hopeful writer, was Alphonse Callier. He was standing outside the building looking at the lit up facade and the beautifully illustrated posters by the likes of Mucha and Toulouse-Lautrec. Alphone himself had only published a few short stories as part of a collective, but his mind was ripe with ideas waiting to burst out onto the paper. For some time he had been wanting to explore the immoral lifestyle of the cultural elite that seemed to gather at La Lune every night. He had dressed himself appropriately, since the cabaret had a strict dress code, where men were required to wear a proper tail coat, which had not been easy on the wallet for Alphonse. Neither had the entrance fee. He was ushered inside the building to an open air courtyard bustling with people. All along the sides were a continuous walkway lined with greek pillars styled after the ancient Roman and Greek architecture. Electric light bulbs were lined across the courtyard above their heads illuminating the plaza in the middle. Alphonse was almost overwhelmed by all the impressions and started to look for a server, so he could collect himself with a drink. A woman carrying a tray of drinks sauntered by at just the right moment and he lifted his hand to stop her.

“Pardon, mademoiselle? Could I please have a glass of water?”

The girl turned her head with a flirtatious smile and eyes that seemed to pull him in body and soul. It had felt like an eternity, when she finally replied:

“Mais oui, monsieur. A bold choice. Please wait for me.”

Alphonse couldn’t help but follow her with his gaze as she walked off. It was truly like being in another world. He turned his attention to some of the large plants that were growing around the courtyard, some were large trees that seemed to have been forced to grow across the roofs at the edge of the courtyard and some potted in different sized and decorated vases and placed seemingly at random. Some plants were draped from the roofs and hanging down between pillars, which evoked a vision of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon in Alphonse’s mind. After getting his water along with more cheeky comments from the server, he finally felt like he was getting used to the lights and sounds around him. It didn’t take long before the guests began to make their way to the ballroom, the moment Alphonse had been waiting for. He was escorted to one of the booths along the wall by a server and got his notes out to write down all the impressions he had gotten since he entered the cabaret. To get into the mood he had ordered an absinthe the same way as his heroes had done as well. It came complete with the slotted spoon, sugar cube and a small pitcher of water. Mixing the water into the drink turned the beautiful green color into a cloudy milky hue. Alphonse had heard about absinthe, but it was the first time he had experienced it firsthand. The whole ritual of preparation was almost more satisfying than the actual taste of the drink. It didn’t matter too much as the impresario stepped out onto the stage to welcome the audience and start the show and what a show it was. Alphonse had to remind himself to actively write down notes, as he continued to be mesmerized by the multitude of acts being presented to him. He saw simple acts featuring singers and dancers who were walking out among the tables and interacting with the audience. He had to quickly brush away his notes as a dancer had suddenly slid onto his table and slithered her exquisite figure in front of him. Some acts were exhilarating as people swung in ropes under the ceiling high above the dance floor, colliding in mid air and some even hanging freely from each other's arms, accompanied by gasps from the charmed onlookers. All were taken through a cocktail for the senses that lasted hours and Alphonse noticed that more than one couldn’t handle the excitement and were escorted out or dragged out by concerned friends. Finally the evening died down to a merciful slow orchestra that provided background ambiance to the people who were there to socialize with their favorite courtesans. None of which had anything to do with Alphonse, so he began to pack away his notes and got to finishing his drinks. He had just placed his empty glass on the desk, when he noticed someone sitting across from him at the other side of the table. It was the dancer from earlier in the night and she was looking intently at him. 

“Excuse me, mademoiselle. I was just about to leave.”

She smiled in a way that seemed to stop Alphonse dead in his tracks and leave him completely defenseless. Her icy blue eyes made him shiver, as she parted her full red lips to whisper to him:

“Monsieur Callier, I understand you are a writer. We have many poets in our clientele, I’m sure you are familiar with some of them, non?”

Alphonse was taken aback at the fact that she knew his name, but she could have gotten it from the ushers or any staff that had handled his reservations. He couldn’t lie to himself though, her beauty had captivated him and he would love to spend a couple more hours discussing poetry and art with her. 

“I’m sure with an establishment as old as this you would have had patrons by the likes of Baudelaire and even Rollinat or Wilde, but they are all dead, so although their art lives on, it would be unwise to speak of them as current clients, would it not? Mademoiselle…?”

The woman held out a pale hand, her skin contrasting with the black evening dress she had changed into after her act. Alphonse was quick to grab her hand and kiss it, noticing she was rather cold to his sensitive lips.

“Eliza, my dear Alphonse. You don’t mind?”

Alphonse let her hand slip out of his as he had been captivated by the meticulously straight hair that framed her face. 

“Not at all, mademoiselle Eliza. I don’t mean to offend, but I have little to offer in terms of money, so I would advocate that you could use your time more wisely among the regular clientele.”

Eliza sighed in an almost over dramatic fashion, as she lounged back against the wall behind her, as her perfect dark hair coiled around her neck and blended into her dress as if they were one and the same. 

“I don’t seek your money, monsieur Alphonse. You see, we here at La Lune Bleue pride ourselves on welcoming the visionaries of the world, the artists, the poets, the inventors. You spoke beautifully about art living on after the artist, but what if that could be changed? You have studied the audience. Did you notice anybody standing out to you?”

Alphonse tried to recall the hazy night and looking past some of the acts, he seemed to recall seeing some of his dead heroes sitting at private tables such as his. But he had blamed the absinthe and thought nothing of it. Eliza moved her head gracefully and looked at him with anticipation before she continued:

“Our impresario read your work, my dear. He has a keen eye for talent, after all. He is on a mission. For art to be immortal, so must the artist also become immortal. And he is willing to extend that gift to you, Alphonse Callier. All it takes is a brief moment of pain.”

Alphonse would have jumped out of his seat at the sight of the sharp fangs protruding from Eliza’s slightly parted lips if he hadn’t been unable to move from looking into her light blue eyes. Eliza continued calmly:

“I’ve heard from some of your peers that being able to experience death and live past it is indescribable. There are no words that could truly capture it. But maybe you, my own Alphonse, could be up to the challenge?”

Alphonse could hardly resist the temptation as Eliza moved over to his side of the table, closing the curtain behind her. She sat next to him and waited patiently like a proper lady being courted by her lover. Taking what would probably be his last breath, he nodded in agreement as Eliza barred her fangs and carefully pierced his neck. It was surprisingly painless, as Alphonse felt himself pass into unknown darkness as he wondered how he would be able to describe what would eventually be on the other side.


	8. Day 8: Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephan has been plagued by dreams of his teeth falling out, but what had started as a dream soon turns into a real life nightmare.

Stephan had been plagued by restless sleep the last couple of nights. Every time he fell asleep he would dream of the same thing: His teeth being loose and slowly falling out as he touched them. Sometimes it was more aggressive with his teeth spilling out of his mouth threatening to choke him until he woke up gasping for air, while other times it was more simple with his teeth feeling loose in his mouth. Each time he woke up the feeling stayed in his jaw, like a faint tickling and often he would be so freaked out he had to check every single tooth in the mirror. But so far none of his teeth had been loose or fallen out. That all changed when he woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. He had had the same dream again, only this time had held some of his teeth in his hands and upon waking up he felt something hard clutched in his fist. Opening up his hand he saw two perfectly formed teeth spotty with blood. He was obviously shocked and as he ran his tongue over his teeth he came across two holes on either side of his mouth where his molars should be. As he went to the bathroom to survey what had happened, he had another chance to look at the teeth in his hand. The roots were unbroken, so he couldn’t have knocked them out by accident. They would have been pulled out, but as he soon discovered, it shouldn’t be possible, since there was no blood in the holes or anywhere else for that matter. Only a small drop in his hand where the teeth had been. It didn’t matter at all to Stephan, who was quick to call emergency services. Unfortunately as he seemed to have been fine and in no pain, he was told to call his dentist or better yet, the local hospital in the morning as it didn’t warrant any imminent action. The operator encouraged him to keep the teeth in a container and to get some sleep as he had seemed more distressed than in actual pain. After telling them it was what he had been trying to do and ending the call, he did try and go back to sleep as the adrenaline had started to wear off.

When he woke up again he realized he hadn’t slept for more than an hour as the night was still dark outside only lit up by the moon high in the sky. This time he had been forced awake as he seemed to be choking on something. Hurrying out to the bathroom coughing and wheezing, he managed to spit up a bit of blood and some hard white pieces as well. Trembling in helplessness he grabbed the pieces and confirmed his fears. They were more of his teeth. The mental strain from the days of losing sleep crept up on him and he could hardly stop himself from sobbing quietly as he tried to wash his bloody hands. As he racked his brain for a possible cause of his teeth falling out, blaming the lack of sleep, his diet, some unknown illness, he felt a strange sensation stirring in his mouth. It was almost an itchiness that started from the holes where his teeth had been and spread throughout his mouth via his gums. It grew more intense as he tried to look for a cause in his mirror. Maybe something had gotten stuck? He grabbed his toothbrush and tried to scratch the itch with it far back in his mouth. His movements grew more frantic and he accidentally brushed over some of his teeth that popped out of his mouth as if they had been attached to nothing. Looking in the mirror at the horrible mess of holes and missing teeth that his mouth had devolved into he fell victim to his own psychosis and started to tear out his teeth one by one. Some of them fell out with the slightest touch, but some were still rooted in his gums and required him to yank it out resulting in a pool of blood forming in his mouth and overflowing over his lips. The feeling of flesh being stretched as he pulled on some of the more ingrained teeth proved to be almost too much of a sensation to handle as he simply sobbed, whimpered and groaned in pain, while he strained to pull out his last teeth. Standing in front of the mirror in a pool of viscera and teeth, Stephan took a look at himself and tried to clean up his bloody hole with water. The gruesome sight of an empty mouth with bright pink gums was almost too much for him to process and it was only made worse by the incessant itching. Stephan was at the point where he had both hands in his mouth rubbing his fingers over his gums when suddenly he felt a sharp pain as if he had cut himself. He quickly retracted his hands and noticed that there was a tiny prick on one of his fingers. He wondered if it was perhaps a chipped tooth since he had been quite violent with some of the teeth, so he decided to look at the area where he had been pricked and surely enough, there was a small piece of tooth sticking out of his gums. It didn’t stay that way for long though as his whole jaw began to stir and ache. He screamed in pain and horror as sharp, pointed teeth burrowed through the pink flesh of his gums and replaced his missing teeth with those of a raging predator.


	9. Day 9: Throw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan and Susan have a knife throwing act in the circus that they have spent years together performing. Ivan suddenly finds out that Susan want to join the acrobats among accusations that she has been cheating on him. He decides to teach her a lesson.

Those fucking clowns had been running their mouths for days now. They were sure that they had seen Susan getting cozy with Giovanni, the star of the acrobatic performers. Ivan didn’t want to believe that she might have been cheating on him, since they had been together for years at that point, but when she had come to him yesterday to tell him that she would like to join the acrobats, but still felt she could be part of their knife throwing act, he had tried to keep a lid on his bubbling anger. And she had the audacity to act like it was no big deal when the whole circus was laughing behind his back. Ivan decided then that he would teach her a little lesson the only way that would work: circus style.

That night during the performance Susan had acted like nothing was wrong, playing to the audience the same way as she used to, but out among the audience right by one of the bleachers Ivan had seen Giovanni watching her. He had stared at her like an animal lusting for a potential mate. It was sickening the way Susan would make sure that their eyes would meet if only briefly. But Ivan would soon get his revenge as he had his knives wheeled out. The act continued as they had been practicing over and over again and as he began to strap Susan to the board he used as the target he started to go over what would happen next in his head. It was a matter of unlearning muscle memory for the throws and relying on his skillful aim. He visualized the different targets and ran them over in his head again and again, but he caught himself forgetting to interact with Susan. As he looked up to give her confirmation he saw that she was grimacing and giving him a strange look. It was as if she was repulsed by him. That damn whore had already replaced him in her mind as well as her body. He walked back to his knives dejected and readied the first one. Looking at his wife strapped against the board he raised his hand to wind up for the throw. According to his plan the first throw would be pure muscle memory and hit the board by her left hip. He uncurled his arm and let the knife escape his hand in a perfectly fluid motion and to no surprise it hit the target by Susan’s hip. As Ivan readied the next knife, he glanced over at Susan hoping to see a change of mind from her or any reaction at all. But she was simply playing it up for the audience like she had always done. A simple look could have helped her, but maybe she just needed a push in the right direction. The next knife would hit under her right arm, but maybe she would learn something if he cut it a bit close. He aggressively flung the next time against the board and it hit, as predicted, right under her right arm. If he had aimed a bit higher he would have nicked her arm. She played her part, however, reacting as rehearsed, but he wanted more. He needed her reaction to be genuine and remorseful. But it was too late for them. He absentmindedly played the next throw up for the audience and stretched out his arm to fake himself aiming more in depth. He locked eyes with Susan, who seemed inquisitive and nodded slightly. At this point he was at ease in his mind with his plan and simply nodded back without another thought. This time he was out to draw blood. He had to give the knife a bit of extra spin for it to hit correctly and flicked his wrist slightly to get the correct throw down. The throw had been perfectly executed and the knife had caught her dress and judging by Susan’s surprised yelp he had graced more than just the dress. Feeling content he reached for the last knife for the big finale. Maybe she had learned her lesson and would think twice before doing something like that again. The finale was easy, but had a huge payoff. He just had to nail the tearaway skirt to the board, which was no problem for him as he just had to hit the middle of the skirt. As he looked over at Susan however, he noticed something unusual about her stance. She had spread her legs way more than she normally would. As he looked up at her face he noticed that she seemed to have quickly looked off into the audience. Was she teasing that asshole, Giovanni? Making sure he could see how willing she was to be with him after she had gotten done with the act? Ivan could feel the anger swell inside him. That slut was flaunting it right in front of him. And she was just waiting for the climax to reveal herself. A horrible thought took over his mind as he weighed the knife in his hand. Accidents could always happen during a dangerous act such as theirs. One wrong move could send the knife in a whole new direction. His eyes ran across her body as he wound his arm back for the throw. Almost as if in slow motion he felt his arm tense up for the imminent throw and as he purposefully released the blade too early, he noticed his wife’s eyes staring back at him in fright. She had barely opened her mouth to scream out as the knife found its target straight through her lying, cheating heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is meant as an alternative telling of the same events that happened in Chapter 5, but this time from the view of Ivan instead of Susan.


	10. Day 10: Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've made your way into a rundown building and find a letter.

You have found a letter sitting by itself on a countertop. The house you’re in looks run down, but so does everything around these parts. You pull up an old chair that threatens to break under your weight and open the letter to read it.

If anybody finds this letter, my name is Diane.    
I’ve been barricading myself in this house for  ~~ days ~~ weeks. I’m not sure. The hours seem to blur together and when I sleep it’s sometimes daylight and other times it’s dark. Food and water seems to be running out but not that fast. Not since it’s only me left.    
I think I need to take it back to the start. If not for my own sake then for the sake of whoever reads this letter.    
I realize I’m coming off as a bit of a cliché, but it happened almost instantly. The spread was far worse than anyone could have predicted. My husband, 2 kids and I are from the Green Bay area in Wisconsin. When cases started to be reported on the news we assumed it was in the major cities. After all we were in a suburb away from the metropolitan areas and even further away from places like Milwaukee and Chicago. We were told to stay indoors and only go out in an emergency. Even in our little part of town that seemed to mean that everybody was out stocking up on toilet paper. TOILET PAPER!    
Thank God for my husband thinking ahead and buying water and canned foods. At least we wouldn’t be hungry and if it turned out that there was something in the water we wouldn’t be thirsty either.    
I still had hope. We were prepared and stocked up. Now we were just keeping the TV and radio on to listen to any news. Nothing happened. The first thing to go was the TV signal. No broadcasted message or anything, just static on every channel. The radio followed soon after. Mike, my husband, told me that he might have a shortwave radio somewhere. We hoped that we could at least hear from other people in the area. He said he would look for it in the morning as it was getting dark out and the kids had to go to sleep. Since everything had shut down there was no reason to stay up, so I went to sleep as well. It would be the last peaceful rest in a long time. I was awoken by Mike telling me that someone was in my house. He didn’t have to, since I could hear loud crashing coming from outside the bedroom. Mike left me as he went to stop the intruders and I made sure to check that my kids were fine. Somehow I didn’t hear my daughter scream for help through all the noise and commotion. But when I got to her door it was open and looking inside there was something. Horrifying. It was a bloody mess groaning and moaning as it ate my baby girl. 

Oh God. It ripped her to pieces as she screamed for me. 

And I just stood there

I’m sorry, Olivia.

Somehow Mike had gotten me and our boy, Nathan out of the house and into the car. I’m not really sure what happened next. I think Mike said we would go around Lake Michigan until we came to the border. We just had to stay away from people. I don’t know why he thought Canada would be the way to go.    
We didn’t get far as others had gotten the same idea of getting out of town. It was like pushing a brick through a bottleneck. We had gotten far. All the way to the Michigan state line and the sun had been up for some time so we could see more of the area around us. Seems like most people made their way to the bigger cities, but Mike told us to grab what we could carry and get off the highway. We were going along the Menominee River to reach some of the smaller lakes where people mostly owned lake houses that were vacant during this time. We had hoped that we could maybe hide in one of them until ~~the~~ ~~ Governme ~~ SOMEBODY would help us.    
One thing we hadn’t thought of was how much forest would be around the river. It was fine until we heard the moans and shuffling of feet. They were somewhere behind us. Around us?    
This will probably be important to you: They moved at a regular speed. Like a person walking. But the way they walked with a purpose, focused on us was unnatural. Nothing mattered to them as they trampled over logs, rocks and bushes. Some of them looked more messed up than others, but they all had the same bloody, messy look.    
We ran as best as we could in the underbrush. Somehow they must have been faster or further in front of us, because one had suddenly come out from behind a tree and grabbed Mike. I wanted to stop, but Mike looked like he could get it off and he told me to run and that he would catch up, so I continued with Nathan. As Mike had said we actually made it to the small lakes and the first thing you would notice was how quiet it was. Even for lake houses. It didn’t take long to find a smaller cabin style house, where we could fortify ourselves and wait for Mike and help to arrive.    
They came during the night. Thank God Nathan was asleep. I heard them walking around between the houses. Some of them were visible from the windows as they passed. Mike also came. He told me he would. But looking through the window at the thing outside, I couldn’t recognize him. It looked like Mike, had his eyes, his face, his clothes, but everything that made him Mike was gone. He had stopped by the window and looked through the boards we had used to barricade the windows with and I could only sit, hidden in the dark, and stare back at him. Hoping he might have been Mike somewhere inside. But he didn’t see me. He saw what the rest of them saw as they moved towards a scream in the distance.    
I think I cried for the first time that night after everything that had happened. 

We only go out when it’s absolutely necessary. But there’s nothing to go out after. All the houses are empty and the one restaurant close by had already been looted long before we thought to check it. I don’t know if they know we’re here. If they can communicate. If they know Mike is looking for us. But I hear them. Often at night. You can never truly tune out the sounds they make. It wakes you up and keeps you up. I don’t know how, but it was too much for Nathan. It had been a rough night for both of us. Maybe they had seen us, but a group of them tried their best to come in through doors, windows anywhere they could get to. They must have tried for hours, because after they had left the house and the sun had finally risen, Nathan had gone as far into the middle of the house as he could and found a closet. He wanted to make sure it was as quiet as possible, but the gunshot could have easily been a bomb going off inside my mind.   
I never found out where he had gotten the gun from. It must have been one of the houses we checked.    
I couldn’t drag him outside, so he’s just sitting in the closet. Waiting. Waiting like me for something to happen. 

  
I’m alone now. I haven’t opened the closet door in days. I haven’t gone out of the house even longer. But I can still hold out. I have food and a weapon. Thanks to Nathan.   
  
I just hope everything turns out alright. There will be a sort of cure or something. Mike will be fine and we can start over?

Hope.

I hope you have better luck than me.

You fold up the letter and put it in your pocket. As you stand up you survey the room for anything useful, before you turn around to leave. On your way out you walk past a closed closet door. A vile smell emanates from within. You look down at the body of a woman holding a gun in her hand. As you grab the weapon you see that wound in her head still looks fresh. She had been dead for hours at most. 


	11. Day 11: Disgusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is a medical examiner at a morgue, only assisted by his colleague, Henry. They get a new case and Henry's will is tested.

“The body appears to be of a young female. Aged approximately around 8 to 10 years. Height is 132 centimeters. Body weighs 20 kilograms, indicating malnourishment. Appearance. Caucasian. Short, blonde hair. Eyes… missing. Several teeth are missing as well. Let’s see what else we’re working with.”

James had probably seen it all in his work at the morgue. He had often been asked why he wanted to become a pathologist and specialize in working with corpses, but his answer had always been the same:

“The dead can’t speak.”

One person that could speak however, was his assistant, Henry. Thankfully he seemed to keep it professional, but he could get caught up in the gruesome nature of some of the cases that rolled through the morgue. He was not above feeling squeamish at times.    
“Henry, could you turn her over on her stomach, please?”

Henry obliged and carefully turned the body over revealing the back. He instinctive turned his head a bit and muttered to himself:

“Aww, Jesus.”

James allowed it, since Henry never interrupted the session no matter how gruesome. He was reliable even facing something like this. The initial exam continued:

“The short hair might not have been voluntary. There is some heavy tearing along the hairline at the neck. The hair had been forcefully pulled almost clean off at places like behind the right ear. The back has seen major scar tissue from what could possibly be a whip or a blade. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly due to the amount of interconnecting tissue. However,”

James turned his attention to the nether part of the body and continued:   
“Deep incisions made along the buttocks going inward towards the genital area would indicate that a blade was used. Henry, could you please help lift this part?”

Again Henry did what he was supposed to do and gently moved the buttocks up to open the cut for inspection. Henry couldn’t help but notice how firm and almost wax-like the skin was. Almost like the body was that of a plastic doll. It helped him come to terms with it all. As he lifted the buttocks it rapidly became apparent that the incisions had not been superficial in the slightest. James was quick to get a ruler out and measured the cut.   
“15 centimeters at the deepest point. Henry, you cook, right? Would you say this might have been made by a chef’s knife or similar perhaps?”   
Henry was surprised, not exactly by the question, but more the fact that James knew about his hobbies. They hardly ever spoke about their lives after all.    
“Yes, it seems about right. It would have hit the hip bone, but the blade could reach 15 centimeters deep.”

James ran the ruler along the incision and stopped as he hit something hard. 

“Perfect, Henry. Looks like we might have something to go on then. You can let go. Carefully, please.”

Henry loosened his push on the flesh and let it sit back in place before he took a step back to survey the body more superficially. James had brought out a penlight to examine close and dictated as he moved the body slightly.

“Lacerations do in fact continue to the anus and genitals. There’s evidence of penetration, forced by the looks of scarring and tearing. Not surprising, really.”

Henry had to take a moment to process the last comment.

“I’m sorry, Doctor?”

James straightened his back and looked at Henry with the same stern face, he always made, when they were working. 

“The law, Henry, dictates that any sexual intercourse at this age is considered at least statutory rape. I don’t assume this little girl wanted it, do you?”

Henry felt the weight of the words and looked down in shame. The pair continued to work in silence for a while after that. But since James couldn’t find anything new to report he made his way down to the legs. Looking at the feet he noticed some strange wounds and called Henry over.

“Seems like we got more incisions right at the Achilles’ Heel on both feet. She did not have a chance to walk around. Henry, are you seeing the same problem with the wound as I am?”

Henry got closer and wiggled one foot a bit before concluding:

“It seems like the wound is a lot more jagged. Not at all clean like the incisions we saw before.”

James nodded in agreement and added to his statement:

“Exactly. These wounds were inflicted aggressively. If I had to guess by the size and type, my bet would be that she was incapacitated by the assailant and kept from running. If we take these bruises on her calves into consideration then the attacker most likely leaned his knee on her leg as he took a hacksaw to her heels.”

Henry could feel that he was getting ill. It was almost overwhelming and whenever they moved on to a new area they would find more and more horrible injuries that had happened to this poor girl. James continued to dictate as he had done the entire time. Bruises on the wrists from when she had been strung up on a hook in handcuffs. A dislocated shoulder. Fingernails that had been ripped out as the flesh underneath had been cut to reveal bone. Bruising of the Esophagus, which connected to the missing teeth to paint an eerie picture. It just seemed to pile on and on wherever they looked. At the end Henry had almost seen it as a mercy for the poor girl, when he pushed the tray into the refrigerated unit. He excused himself to James and walked outside where he lit a cigarette with trembling hands. A voice he hadn’t expected to hear made him turn around.   
“You know, it happens to all. There’s always one that pushes you to your limit. I’ve been there as well.”

Henry could hardly reply, so he just nodded in agreement and took a long drag of his cigarette. James, who suddenly stood by his side and talked to him like they were friendly colleagues, continued uninterrupted:

“You need to be able to articulate what is going through your mind, Henry. Are you angry? Upset? Sad?” 

Henry snuffed out the cigarette and threw it in the trash, as he turned to James. 

“We see a lot of shit, right? I mean, there’s some fucked up things going around this world. The rats that attacked some years ago. That guy whose body had been petrified. People being ripped apart by ferocious animals. But that’s almost supernatural, you see? Those are monsters. We acknowledge that it’s in their nature. We assume that the unexplainable things simply happen, because that’s how it is. But a poor girl like the one we just filed away is not supernatural. She was not a victim of a monster. She was just… a victim. How can we even explain that?”

Henry didn’t realize, but James could see the tears streaming down his face. He sighed and leaned against the wall they were both standing by and said softly:

“There’s no monster to blame most of the time. It’s simply humans. Sometimes we’re just left with the disgusting behaviour of man.” 


	12. Day 12: Slippery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wakes up in a bed in a strange underwater cave after trying to get back to shore. But what lurks down there in the deep with him?

Connor had jolted awake and found himself in a foreign bed. Everything around him was dark and the air felt humid and moist. His head felt heavy, but it could have been due to the rumbling sound that droned on around him. He closed his eyes and tried to recollect what had happened. He had been on The Magdalene along with Diego and Jay and they had caught something in the net that turned the other two crazy. He had tried to sail back to shore, but did he actually make it back? If he woke up in a bed then of course he would be back on land. The bed lacked the familiar rocking of a boat, so he could not be on a vessel. Maybe he had lost consciousness close to the shore and had been placed somewhere down by the harbor. That would certainly explain the clammy air that stuck to his skin. But why was it so dark? He reached out over the bed to see if he could feel his way towards a lamp or light of some sort, but recoiled as he felt something spongy and soft against his palm. Slowly he started to see what he had touched as it lit up in a fluorescent red light. Connor was unsure what he was looking at. It had the form of a tentacle, but looked more like a sea anemone. The fact that it swayed as if it was floating underwater and being moved by currents made it all the more strange. Connor decided to inspect his hand since he had touched something unknown, but he found nothing wrong. As the light spread he could finally orient himself on where he had woken up. Nothing around him looked like he had expected. The bed he had woken up in was the only thing that looked man made as the room itself was nothing more than a cave. The stone walls around him were wet to the touch and the floor was uneven and slippery to walk on. He had treaded carefully as he walked along the edge of the small cavern. Looking ahead he could see a hole in the wall and hurried over, since it might help him to see what was outside, but as he reached it he saw that the red light just dissipated out into a vast, dark ocean, like looking through an underwater window. It wasn’t a window that kept him safe from the waters, it was some sort of transparent membrane that bulged a bit back and forward. Connor decided that it would be better to leave it alone and look for a way out instead. The cave opened up into a system of bigger and smaller tunnels and caverns. At times he met more of the sea anemones that would light up when he touched them acting both as light but also a trail to follow back if he were to get lost in the cave system. He soon realized he was not alone in the caves. Small crustaceans like crabs and isopods scurried around his feet, startled by the noise he made whenever he walked around. And still the low rumbling continued to vibrate throughout the tunnels. It was starting to make his head throb, but he pressed onwards. At least the tunnels seemed to go upwards and that meant hopefully it would reach the surface. Down one of the tunnels, he walked by a sort of depression in the cave wall. At first he didn’t pay much attention to it, but when he heard a low moan coming from it, he turned back to check it out. The red lights from the sea anemones were nowhere near him, so he had a hard time glimpsing what was inside. He did notice a slimy substance that wrapped around the edges of the depression as it reflected in the red light. Following it in, he could see something that looked like a human figure. As he moved his head closer to get a better view of the figure, when it rushed forward into the light finally showing its face. Or what was left of it. Instead of a human face there was a monstrous mutation of something not quite man, but more aquatic. Scales were creeping up the neck and the hair looked like it was fusing together into a fin on top of the creature’s head. It seemed like only one eye had been affected yet, since one looked human with dark brown iris, but the other was enlarged and an opaque black all over. It looked like it had burst out of the person’s head and reattached itself, creating new eyelids and a bulging eye socket. Connor jumped back startled, but he regained his composure, when he had a strange feeling that he could make out who the creature had once been.

“Diego?”

The creature seemed to respond and the human eye, before static and distant, suddenly focused on Connor. It spoke, but the sounds were as though it was choking:

“Con...nor. Por favor… Get away.”

Connor could not believe what he was seeing. Diego had disappeared into the ocean just before he had woken up here. How long had it been? He tried to tear at the slime, but it was too wet and his hands simply slipped through it. He tried to get some answers while Diego was still somewhat able to help him.

“Diego, what happened to you? What’s going on?”

Connor felt an icy grip around his stomach as the one part that still made Diego human, his eye, slowly changed. The brown color began to spread and the eye itself bubbled out as if it was too large to fit in his head. Diego screamed, but the sound was distorted, like he was screaming underwater. He managed to part with some final words:

“Agua… The water. It changes you.”

Diego was already too far gone at this point. He had returned to simply scream his muffled scream and Connor figured he would not stay behind to find out what would happen next. He began to run through the tunnel, but the air began to feel heavier and cling more to his skin. It almost started to itch, mostly on his arms and neck. Looking around him he began to notice that the caves were looking weird. Instead of crustaceans running around the rocky floor, there were jellyfish and tentacle-like beings slithering around in the air. The sea anemones’ lights were starting to pulse as the rumbling turned more aquatic and deep sea like the further Connor went. The floor appeared more and more slippery and he had trouble keeping his pace from fear of falling down. As he turned a corner he quickly realized he didn’t have solid footing and slid into large cavern, that could be considered a hub for a lot of the tunnels, since there were multiple levels of holes in the walls going far up into an opening at the top, where waves could be seen crashing over head. In the middle of the cavern, right below the hole was a familiar sight. Connor recognized it as almost looking like the mutated fish that had turned his friends mad. But it was much larger and more plump looking. The rainbow hue was still there and it was resting on top of something that looked like a bird's nest, but looking closer it was a giant mess of tentacles, writhing under the weight of the creature on top. Connor tried to get closer, but it felt like he was walking through jelly and he couldn’t quite reach the creature no matter how much he forced himself forward. Too late did he figure out that he could not move at all, but he could feel the heavy air scratching his skin. But that was not all. He also felt the tentacles from under the creature slither up his legs and wrap around his body in a wet and slimy grip. The was forcefully pushed back into one of the holes as the tentacles excreted some sort of ooze that began to bind with his body and the rock wall around him. He tried to scream, but the air was so heavy that he felt like he could drown in it. Everything was still itchy and the ooze only made it worse. As he strained to get out of his slimy hole, he saw some more of the jellyfish float past him and it paused his efforts.

“Wait a sec…”

A thundering pain shot through his eye as it felt like it was growing inside his head. The water, Diego had said. But there was no water. Then he finally felt it. The sensation of waves pushing and pulling gently on his body. There had never been any air inside the cave. It was water. It had always been the water. Everything crashed in his mind as he struggled to wrap his head around it all, but it was futile in the end. He laughed as a mad man as his throat split open and his eyes bulged out of his skull. But his cackling shrieks were drowned out by the rumbling sounds of waves roaring through the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have guessed this is a continuation of my story from Day 1. I might revisit Connor again in another story, if I need more deep sea horror. You'll never know


	13. Day 13: Dune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Sergei are astronauts surveying planets when their ship crashes on a desert planet. Jane tries to cross the ocean of sand, but is it futile?

Jane was still strapped into her seat when she came to. She had been out long enough that the alarms from her spacecraft had ceased to go off. Trying to stay calm, she went through a mental checklist. First was her visor in her helmet. She didn’t have trouble breathing, so it appeared to be fine and a quick look around the glass panel making up the front of her helmet confirmed that it was intact. It could not be said for the rest of the spacecraft though. Winds were blowing in through big gashes in the hull and all the control panels looked busted beyond repair. In the seat next to her was her co-pilot, Sergei, but there was no help to get from him on account of the cracked hole where his face shield should be and the metal rods going through both his chair and his body. Jane paused for a moment wishing her co-pilot well in the beyond before she managed to cut herself free from her restraints. As she crawled out of the vessel she was met with an unsurprising sight. A desert planet filled with mountainous dunes as far as she could see. The sands were a rusty reddish brown with streaks of pure white following along the natural waves made by aeons of wind. The skies were a swirling array of purple, orange and blue continually changing as Jane stared at it. She ran her gaze across the horizon to see if she had missed anything, but was still met with an ocean of sand. She couldn’t help but crack a smile at the thought that this planet could potentially be colonized. Upon entry she remembered that Sergei had remarked how small it was. By his calculations it had been just shy of 2000 km in radius, not that much bigger than the Moon or Pluto. How were they going to fit the entire human race on a planet one third the size of Earth?    
She looked back at her crashed spacecraft hoping that it had miraculously fixed itself and that Sergei was waving her over so they could go back, but it was still a wrecked mess of metal and an unfit tomb for her friend. There was nothing she could do for him now. She turned her back on the one thing that she could recognize on the planet and started to walk. She tried to think positive thoughts, as she walked in a single, unimportant direction. 

_ At least the sky looks pretty. It always does. The wind is gentle and it’s not that cold. I am wearing a spacesuit so that might help with it too. _

She had walked for hours according to her own biological clock and the sky had in the meantime turned darker, signalling that the planet’s night cycle had begun. Looking at the sky again, she saw that the orange and purple had diminished giving way for a dark ocean blue sky dotted with countless stars in bright clusters. She looked around the sky for a moon, but she couldn’t find any, only more and more stars. She started to worry about what would supply her with light through the night besides her flashlight, which she would like to keep in case of emergencies. But her worries dissipated when she saw the streaks of light blue sand light up around her. She guessed it would be the white sand storing up light from the sun during the day and then light up during the night. The unforgiving sand dunes from earlier had taken on a new life right in front of her. The lights in the sand made her feel like she was standing on a moonlit beach where the water would barely cover her feet. It was a breathtaking view she could never experience back on Earth. Even comparing it to something from her home planet would be a disservice. She continued to walk for a bit until she reached a dune towering above her, but lean enough to scale without any issues. The sand under her feet was just hard enough to make sure she never lost her footing and she reached the top faster than she had hoped. After looking around from the elevated vantage point and taking the view in for just a bit longer after seeing nothing but more sand, she sat down at the top and stared at the night sky. She wanted to feel sad, since she would never experience the beauty of a foreign world again. By the time a ship would be sent out to get her, it would be too late. She didn’t want to pay attention to it, but it had been getting harder to breathe and her oxygen tanks had not been making as much noise as they did initially. In fact, they had almost gone completely silent. She would soon fall asleep and then that would be it. But she was strangely at peace. She looked up at the stars again as she slid on her back resting on the hillside of the dune. It was completely foreign to her. No identifying stars or planets. She wondered for a second where Earth was, but the second quickly passed as she came to the realization that she actually didn’t care in the end. 


	14. Day 14: Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin has been drafted from the military to try out new experimental equipment. It leads to him trying on a full exoskeleton.

Martin had always been into superheroes since he was a little kid. He would spend most of his childhood reading stories about justice and fighting evil men with powers. But some of his favorite heroes were those without special powers. The heroes like Batman, who only had his training to go on or Iron Man, who simply used his intellect and a suit of armor to take on foes with actual supernatural powers. He wasn’t sure what had led him to join the military, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had been influenced by his heroes to make the world a better place the only way he figured he could. On account of his positive outlook and great test scores he had been put in contact with the Department of Defense. For all he knew they had been following him since he enrolled though. But now he was pulled from the barracks to help with testing equipment and being a sort of guinea pig to a bunch of scientists in lab coats. It had started out easy enough with him having to test new weapons at a firing range or the effects of enhancements to the human body. Like a harness that would help him lift heavy things easier or stop him from hurting his legs if he jumped from an unsafe height. Some of the tests were of course a failure and he would at times get injured, but it was all washed away whenever something worked as it should. He would almost feel like the same superheroes he grew up with. It was exciting work for him and he felt like he was doing his part in helping his country.

Martin had been kept away from bigger projects for a few weeks, but he was finally brought out again. He almost recognized the different places of the testing facility at this point and he knew he was going to try one of the big projects on account of the fact that he was being escorted to one of the bigger halls in the facility. When he entered through the door, he couldn’t help but notice that the test personnel were all standing behind protective glass, so he figured it had something to do with explosives, which was not a big deal to him. As long as they weren’t going to use them on him of course. It could also have something to do with ballistics, since there had been targets lined up for him. However unlike other times where he would be supplied with a weapon or an attachment for his body he was taken to a sort of suit made of formed steel plates. Prototypes never looked that great but this almost looked like it had been assembled using scraps, tubing and wires. Martin couldn’t keep himself from firing off a snarky remark:

“You’re not saying I have to wear your discount C-3PO suit, right?”

The lead researcher pressed a button that turned on a speaker system and replied coldly:

“Yes, this is the first full prototype, measured to your body using the data we’ve gathered through our tests. Please put it on. No need to be too careful. We want to see how well it handles fast application.”

Martin scuffed at the whole ordeal and took an extra look at the suit, before giving one last comment:

“Couldn’t you at least have made it red and gold?”

Again the lead researcher didn’t seem to understand his joke and looked at his fellow lab coats in confusion before quietly answering:

“That’s not very combat efficient.”

Martin just shook his head as he didn’t want to deal with that anymore. He went to lift the suit of the rack and noticed how lightweight it felt even with the steel plates. Strapping into it took some effort, but he quickly recognized parts from earlier tests that had been tweaked a bit and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the joints should line up with his own. He noted that it felt surprisingly nimble and moved easily without restrictions even as he turned his limbs and body at weird unnatural angles. He was strapped in tight as it came with a locking chestplate and a face shield. He couldn’t look through any holes, so he was kept in the dark for a moment before he heard the lead researcher speak again:

“The face shield has a built in screen that shows you pretty much anything in your field of vision with some enhancements using augmented reality.”

Right as he had finished a bright screen flashed right in front of Martin’s eyes showing him the test hall as if he had looked at it with his own eyes. He turned his head to test the response and besides the fact that he knew he was looking at a screen it felt like seeing it with his own eyes. He turned to focus on the targets and noticed a dot with an indicator telling him how far away the target was from him. One of the men who had escorted him walked into his field of vision and placed a rifle in his hands. Again the lead researcher’s voice could be heard:

“The suit is paired up with the rifle and the computer that also powers your screen can automatically aim your gun in the correct position. It should be voice activated and coded to your specific voice, so try and say ‘auto aim’.”

Martin tried to loosen up his body a bit and focused on the screen and targets in front of him. Loudly and slowly he called out:

“Auto aim.”

He almost had a heart attack when the suit tensed up and forced his arms and body in position to aim for the targets. The dot had widened into a reticle in the center of the target and even though he tried to move, the suit wouldn’t let him. The voice came over the speaker system again:

“Pull the trigger once.”

Martin obliged and a bullet shot out. Through the screen he could see that it had pierced the target right in the middle of the reticle. He was almost speechless as to how it had perfectly locked his posture in place for the optimal aim. But he still couldn’t move any part of his body.

“Guys, I’m still stuck though? What do I do?”

“Call out ‘cease fire’, please.”

“Cease fire.”

Instantly he felt the joints relax and he could move his body again. Incredibly enough it was not that instantaneous that he was afraid of falling over. Despite how ugly the suit was, it was working beyond what Martin could ever imagine.

“Martin, you need to bear with us for a moment. Another feature we would like to address is the remote control. We theorize that a pilot such as yourself could end up being damaged, knocked unconscious or maybe suffer some sort of psychological damage. Therefore we would like to test how the suit can be called back in battle or locked down in case it is needed. You just have to relax and for the sake of testing try not to move too much.”

Martin nodded in confirmation and slacked his body. He could slowly hear servos and joints whirring around him as the suit began to move on it’s own. At first it had propped him up straight and now it started to move his feet and legs. He was beyond amazed that it had been able to take steps using his body. He wanted to say something, but he knew the guys behind the glass would get mad, so he continued to play dead. It all went well, but at times the joints would move awkwardly, but Martin chalked it up to the prototype glitching a bit. The first real problem came when the joints on his gloves suddenly began to spaz out moving his fingers rapidly until a couple of them were forcefully pulled unnaturally back, breaking them in the process. He screamed in pain and tried to move his arm, but the suit was completely in control and he could not do anything. He heard somewhere around him the researchers had started to panic and tried to shut the suit down, but the glitch had moved on from his fingers and started to violently twist his wrists, as his arms were being forced in strange directions. Martin shrieked through the unbearable pain, but the suit wasn’t done. He felt an almost unreal sensation as both his shoulders popped out of their sockets simultaneously. At this point he had a hard time fighting through the pain, but it wouldn’t matter for long as the spinal part wrapped around his torso connected to the chestplate began to slowly rotate his upper body, while his legs stayed put. He could feel the strain on his body as the suit relentlessly twisted his body until his skin started to rip and his spine severed. All the feeling he had in his body suddenly disappeared as he gasped for air. Then the screen in front of him turned black and the suit fell to the ground. 

The doors opened and Simon was led into a giant testing hall. He noticed a bunch of researchers behind a glass panel, but the main part that caught his eye was a suit of armor made with metal plates, tubes and wires. But the strangest part was how it was colored.

“Oh, cool. Red and gold. Kinda looks like a homemade Iron Man suit.”

The lead researcher pushed a button and his voice came through over the speakers:

“This is the first prototype. We’ve measured it to your body using data from former tests. Please put it on.”


	15. Day 15: Outpost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt works as a fire lookout in a mountain by himself. He rarely has any interactions with the outside world and he likes it that way. But after a lightning storm strikes he is suddenly completely cut off from the world.

Some people would go insane from the isolation of being a fire lookout, but Matt revelled in the silence that came with the job. The world could be burning down around him, but as long as he couldn’t see the smoke it was not part of his universe. His one line to the outside world was the radio that connected him to the main office, but he only used it to check in in the morning and report at the end of the day. The monotonous drive through the day felt soothing to his soul and he spent his downtown reading books and writing down his thoughts or whatever else would occupy his mind. He had never been the type to want to talk to people about what was on his mind, which had also resulted in him never understanding the need to get close to anybody. That had worked out great for him, since he never felt any pull to return to the city. After all his cabin had everything he needed. It was stocked with food, there was running water and plenty of books to read. There was no internet, so he couldn’t use his smartphone, if he actually had one. But he figured there was nothing to keep up to date with. The most immediate news came through the radio anyway and that was rarely anything more than who won the game last night. He liked the sense of not having to worry about a great big world full of bad things. On the mountaintop his world only reached as far as he could see.

It had started with a flash of lightning. No winds or rain, just flashes of lightning cutting across the dark grey skies. It was nothing that Matt wasn’t used to. He spent most of his days on the mountain. It was not the first time he had seen lightning, so he tried to sleep through it and check in over the radio in the morning. When he woke up the lightning was still going on, but not as frequently as before. He tried to hail people on the radio, but there was nothing but static. He figured a stray lightning bolt had hit a radio mast or knocked out the power back down in the town, so he carried on with his day logging the incident in a notebook he had brought in case of communication error such as this. The lightning continued for a couple of more hours until it trailed off in the distance. Matt made a note of the time and wrote a note about checking the radio again some hours later when connections would probably be fixed. He spent most of the day checking for fires, since there was a good chance that the lightning could have started one, but it seemed they had been lucky. Everything was quiet in his little piece of uninterrupted world. Maybe a little too quiet. Normally he would be able to see some birds by the little bird feeder he had set up outside his cabin, but there were none to be seen. He figured they were flying lower down the mountain because of the lightning, so he moved on with his day. 

The sun was slowly setting again, so he tried to call on the radio again, but instead of static there was just silence. The electronic hum indicated that he was connected, but no one on the other side would answer. Since he couldn’t do anything to help, he simply logged the day in his notebook, making sure to write down temperature and when the sun rose as well as sundown. As the sun disappeared behind the mountain peaks, he sat down by his desk and wrote his meditation for the day:

_ Would I even know if the world ended around me? The animals disappearing would be a great indicator. But if everybody had suddenly left, why am I still here?  _

He retired for the day to his bed with one of his favorite books, but it wasn’t long until he couldn’t keep his eyes open and he fell asleep. 

After making his morning coffee and doing his initial survey of the mountain tops, he sat down to check in on the radio but just like yesterday he got nothing but the hum. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of unsettlement. Looking at the clock he confirmed that the office should have been manned, but still no one responded to him. He decided against his orders to go for a quick walk around the area. As he opened the door outside, he would normally have felt a slight to hard breeze depending on the weather, but the air felt completely static. Nothing moved around him, not even the lanterns that were hung under the roof. It was like everything around the cabin had been stopped. Looking up at the sky he couldn’t see any clouds that would put the crazy notion out of his head, so he began to walk along the trail leaving his cabin. The peak of the mountain was above the treeline, so he had to walk for a while to reach the forest further down, but despite what he assumed, there were no noises of any kind. Normally when he walked through the trails he would always encounter some sort of animal, but even as he took his time and walked for longer than usual he saw nothing. The mountain was dead quiet. He made it back to his cabin and tried the radio again with no luck. The silence on the radio was easy for him to explain away in his mind as the office was still having some difficulties, but the unnatural silence on the mountain was starting to scare him. He tried to get past it by continuing to do his chores as always, but the nagging feeling in the back of his mind never went away. He had almost expected the sun not to set, but luckily it did. Instead of calling on the radio he simply turned it on and cranked the volume so he could hear some sort of noise at least. He had to take some time to come up with something to write, his mind was all over the place and it was hard to form something coherent:

_ So if I am the last one left, then what? Where did everybody go? How did it happen? Why am I left? _

He left the radio on as he slumped into his bed and drifted into sleep aided by the white noise he had created for himself. 

It had been a week at that point. He had not had any human contact whatsoever, but that wasn’t the worst of it in his mind. He had not seen any living thing either. No animals getting too close to the cabin, no squirrels in the treetops down the hills, no birds in the sky or by the birdfeeder, not even any insects. He had done his best to look for clouds, but nothing in the sky moved except for the sun and the moon. The radio was constantly on, which told Matt that power was still available from somewhere. Even the water was working perfectly, both the hot and cold. It all had to come from somewhere. He had continued to dutifully log everything from sunrise to sunset and even look for fires. After all this was still his little piece of the world. His universe. After the sun had set he sat down to write again. He had tried to keep it consistent, so he could track his thoughts, but that day he had an epiphany. It was so logical:

_ I figured it out! It’s not the world that’s gone! It’s me! Everything that I can see is my little piece of universe and I’ve been ripped out of the world around me! It has to be. But what happens if I walk down the mountain? Where does my world end? _

The next morning the sun rose on an empty cabin. Footprints going down into the woods were visible in the dried mud and dirt, but they were slowly erased by a cold morning breeze as a bird whistled over its breakfast by the bird feeder.


	16. Day 16: Rocket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom works as humanitarian relief in the middle east when suddenly the unexpected happen

There had been missile strikes before. Some people had begun a habit of counting the seconds from seeing the impact until the sound would reach them, much like one would count the seconds from lightning to the sound of thunder. Air strike sirens would normally sound before an attack, but instead of searching for shelter some people would look to the sky and see how close they were to whatever had triggered the alarm. It was after all a fairly big city and most missiles were aimed at the military bases at the edge of the city. 

Nadim had been out playing with friends in the street in front of his family’s house, when he heard the sirens. His friends lived further down the street so they all ran to their respective homes. Normally his mother would come to take him into shelter, but no one came rushing out the door, which was weird since they lived away from the center of the city without any tall buildings around. Mimicking what he had seen so many times before he looked to the sky for any signs of rockets, but nothing could be seen. He could hear the sound of an airplane, but it was nowhere to be seen, until it suddenly made its way over the mountain range outside of town. Initially it seemed like it would just fly over and Nadim made sure to watch it carefully, but it was very high up, so he could hardly see anything. It crossed overhead and disappeared in a flash of light as Nadim had turned his face directly against the sun. Blinded, he lowered his head and rubbed his eyes, while white dots danced around on his eyelids. Somewhere behind him he could hear his mother yell for him to come in, but as he turned to open his eyes again he saw another flash many times brighter than the sun before everything dissolved into nothing. 

Tom had been working with humanitarian aid and part time as a photographer around the Middle East for some time. Mostly he had dealt with refugees and aiding the press with photos, but he knew as soon as he had seen the giant column of smoke far off in the horizon. Luckily there had been a huge stretch of desert between the city and his location, so the only way he had known was when he saw the smoke rise above the mountains. Not even minutes after noticing it, he received a phone call as the people around him started to feel agitated and shout. Through the commotion he could hear on the phone that he was to pack and provide medical assistance, since there had been a nuclear strike. The words rang hard in his mind and he could hardly believe it. The call had already ended, but he stood frozen with the phone to his ear. He never imagined he would experience a nuclear attack. He had no idea what to expect, but he knew it would be hard work. He joined the rest of the relief team early next morning and headed to the city. Rounding the mountains he noticed how flat everything was and thoughtlessly remarked:

“Shouldn’t we come up on the city soon?” 

He was met with crushing silence from the other members in the van and realizing his mistake he resolved to look out the window. They had already driven past multiple people walking in the opposite direction. All of them with extensive injuries that would be better of being treated by them, than wherever they had decided to go. After counting upwards of 15 people walking away from the site, Tom turned his head and decided to prepare himself mentally for what was sure to be a very long and very hard day. 

As they opened the van and Tom got out the first thing he noted was the lack of any buildings around. Everything around him had been reduced to rubble. The phrase ‘scorched earth’ got stuck in his mind as he tried to find anything still standing. But he found nothing except for the hastily raised tents and shelters that were probably put up during the night, when he couldn’t sleep, dreading this very moment. The next thing he felt was the air. It was still hot, even for middle eastern standards. He was afraid to touch anything, not because of radiation, but from fear of burning his skin on the ruins of the city. In the distance he could see workers shouting and pulling people up through the rubble. Some were screaming, some were crying, some were quiet. Closer to him were the tents filled with frantic voices, some from medical staff trying to calm patients down and some from patients. Tom was used to recognizing the Arabic word for ‘help’, but surprisingly it was mostly the workers in the distance he heard it from. From the tents he was slowly making his way towards, the word he heard most being yelled out was ‘water’. He almost didn’t dare open the door to the tent, but he pressed on. Steeping inside he was hit by an intense thick heat that, upon closer look emanated from the bodies laying around the ground on makeshift gurneys. Some of the people lying on them were almost unrecognizable as what a human would look like. Some of them had severe burns to the point where skin and flesh almost could have melted off. A horrific sight met him as he locked eyes with what he assumed was a young woman. Her face would have been covered by a burqa or a niqab but in the blast the fabric had ignited and left patterned burns across her face framing her eyes that looked strangely unharmed. The woman did not speak or scream. She simply stared at Tom with a vacant gaze, her dark eyes completely devoid of light. 

It was more than Tom had ever been able to prepare himself for, he backed out of the tent and stuttered something about helping the workers around the city to his team. One of them sat him down and made sure he was still mentally fit, before he was allowed to go. He walked through the newly made concrete desert, aimlessly, but listening around him. He was pulled out of his trance-like walk by the screams of a woman who was walking towards him. They seemed to be on a street given the bigger piles of rubble on either side of them. She was badly hurt, but she could walk. He ran up to her and supported her, as she wailed. From what little Arabic Tom could and taken from the context she was looking for her son. Tom tried to ask her for the boy’s name, but she was lost in hysteria and could barely stand as Tom held her in his arms. He looked past the woman down the street to see if there was any way a boy could be hiding or trapt anywhere. He didn’t have to look far, as he laid eyes on the charred body of a child, covering its eyes with its hands. It was impossible for him to see if it was a boy or a girl, but holding the woman close and comforting her, he decided not to say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020 marks the 75th anniversary for the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. While I can never put myself in a place where I can even begin to understand the horrors that happened because of those bombings I visited the the site in Hiroshima and it moved me deeply. I've carried that with me since and I wanted to get those feelings out the only way I know how. Writing.


	17. Day 17: Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm is closing in on the island of Lindisfarne in 793, but the storm brings more than bad weather. It brings ships from across the sea.

The monks at the priory on Lindisfarne had already suffered a hard year, when the storm from the sea approached. They had heard of the heathens from across the sea. Pagans worshipping ancient gods that found pleasure in violence and war. The prior had assured the monks that no harm would come to them since God was looking over them and keeping his sacred heart safe from the godless attackers. After all the ships had never gotten close to the island and they would most likely target port towns with far more riches. Even so, the storm grew louder and the wind rattled the stained glass windows to the point where some of the monks were afraid the glass would rip from the lead frames. Most monks had started to pray thinking God would shelter them from the storm, but their faith wavered when one of the monks stormed into the main hall and announced that the ships had already reached the shore. The monks had never witnessed such ferocious, uncontrollable fury. The Northmen would reach the shore and all make their way straight to the priory. From there it seemed like they each operated under their own plan. Some broke off into groups, others went alone. But everywhere they went, they destroyed everything in their path and anyone who opposed them or was unlucky enough to stand in their way, would be cut down without a second thought. The heathens hadn’t reached the main hall yet, but the prior had done his best to prepare for some of the monks to escape. He grabbed one of the holy relics from the altar, a golden crucifix, and thrust it in the arms of the young monk Eadric. He was told to brave the tide and run into the forest to hide until salvation would come. Eadric could barely hear the instructions from his prior over the storm viciously beating the walls and the roars of the Northmen blending together in a cacophony of rumbling noise. He had just stepped out through the secret door leading to a tunnel outside, when he heard the glass windows behind him shatter and felt the harsh blows of the storm push him further through the doorway. Looking back he saw his prior kneeled at the altar and the doors to the main hall burst open as the attackers made their way in. They ran towards the prior as Eadric turned his head away and ran all he could through the tunnel. He prayed that the prior’s death had been painless and he thanked the lord that he could not hear the carnage over the thrashing winds. When he emerged from the tunnel he was almost swept away by the harsh winds that had completely overtaken the island at that point. The way the storm was raging it almost sounded like the roars of the attackers came from all around Eadric as he ran as fast as he could away from the priory. Although it had been low tide the windswept waves were crashing over the usual path leading off the island, but keeping his faith he braved the treacherous waters. He told himself he was faithful to God and that he would protect him, but deep in his soul he knew that the threat of drowning would be far easier than what awaited him at the hands of the heathens behind him. Miraculously he made it to the mainland and as he reached the first line of trees he turned back to look at his island home. Fires were already spreading throughout the church and priory and the smoke was whipped about without staying in one place for more than a moment. He looked to the sky, where the heavy grey clouds rolled towards him. He had hoped that God would show him a sign or give him a reason why He had forsaken the island. But there was no god to see. Eadric blamed his fatigue, but in the moment he could have sworn that the clouds parted to reveal an army of Northmen advancing toward the mainland. Gripped by supernatural fear, he turned away from the shore and ran into the forest.

His breath hung in clouds trailing behind him and dissipating in the cold air. He had been running through the forest for so long that it almost felt like his body was moving on pure instinct. If his brain had taken over he would have already fallen over with exhaustion. In the distance far beyond the trees surrounding him he heard a low vibrating rumble. Looking back to see if he was still followed, he was relieved to see nothing but more trees, but a mist began to form far off in the distance. It behaved differently than what he had thought, since it was rolling through the trees in waves, covering the ground instead of rising up. As he looked away from the mist, he could hear a crash of thunder, but the ensuing echo through the forest distorted the sound and reverberated it to sound like hundreds, even thousand men roaring with bloodlust. Up ahead was a small cave in a rock wall and he scrambled in through dirt and moss. Keeping well hidden in the shadows of the cave, he took out a golden crucifix from his dirty brown robes and clutched it tightly against his body as he began to pray.    
From the opening of the cave he could see the mist moving closer, inching its way towards the cave entrance little by little, as the sounds of thunder or rather, boots approached. It didn’t take long for the mist to form a solid wall in front of the entrance that obscured everything, leaving only a grey haze behind. Eadric huddled together and made himself as small as possible, when the rumbling sounds suddenly stopped. The forest had gone eerily quiet as if he was the only living soul left alive. Then he heard it. The misplaced sound of dogs barking. Some were far away and some sounded like they were standing right by the entrance. But the Northmen had not brought any dogs with them, at least not what he had been told or had seen. The unseen dogs continued to bark and all were getting closer and closer to him until their barks echoed throughout the cavern so loud that he had to cover his ears as he feared they would rupture. He was waiting for a merciless death from being ripped apart by wild animals, but none came forward through the mist. Then the dogs ceased their barking and the sounds died out inside the cave. Eadric silently praised God for having protected him, when suddenly a single mountain of a man stepped out of the mist, almost as if he had materialized from nothing. Every step he took was a thunderclap through the cave, but the man moved with calm determination towards Eadric, who cowered in the dark. He recognized the man as wearing the battle garments of the Northmen, but without the unbridled ferocity that the attackers of Lindisfarne had brought. The man walked over in front of the huddled monk and snatched the golden crucifix from his grip. Eadric was ready to receive the final blow from the man’s sword, but no final end befell him. Instead the deafening sound of his voice vibrated through the cave as the storm outside suddenly began to rage:

“No one escapes the Wild Hunt. I shall spare your life, so you can chronicle what you witnessed today. When the storm comes from the North Sea, you will know that we are not far behind and Odin’s dogs will hunt down anyone who tries to flee. Mark my words, monk. This is, but the beginning of an age. Soon the storms will sweep away your entire island kingdom and I will be there to oversee the destruction of your puny excuse for a god. Spread the word. We bring the storm when we hunt.”

Then the man turned his back on what was left of the shivering being fearing for his life and returned to the mist. Just as soon as he disappeared so did the mist and the storm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is partially based on what is considered by many as the start of the Viking Age with the raid on Lindisfarne. I tried to offer up a fictional account that could maybe have been delivered by word of mouth, using the folklore motif of Wild Hunt combined with the actual raid.


	18. Day 18: Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William has been hunting all his life and now he's working for the Murton Estate as a gamekeeper. He's tasked with killing a young buck for dinner.

William had been hunting almost as long as he could remember. As a child he would accompany his father and learn the basics. Some would assume that a child would be a hassle to mentor, but William would strengthen his resolve and do his best to follow his father’s instructions. He quickly learned to step carefully and shift the weight of his body to make as little noise as possible when he saw his dad move very slowly and quietly over leaves that should be crunching under his feet like they did when William would run through the garden in fall. Later he would understand the importance of wind, when he saw how an elk sensed him and smelled him even though he was staying low and watching his steps. His father had told him that the wind had been against his back and carried his smell to the animal. As he got older he learned to scout the terrain and familiarize himself with the hunting grounds. He realized that different vantage points would be beneficial at vastly different times. The hillsides were perfect to survey the area, but left him exposed to wildlife that was already counting on survival instincts. His smaller size was perfect to keep hidden in bushes, where he could have a chance to watch the animals more closely than the adult hunters and their dogs. 

He had killed his first animal with a rifle when he was 12. He would remember the day mostly from the way his father had stabilized him. William had leaned against his father’s shoulder and as they both were crouched down aiming at the deer they had scouted out. They were downwind from the deer, but it almost didn’t matter as there was hardly a breeze. His father hadn’t said a single word, but he knew that he was just supposed to pull the trigger when he was ready. He anticipated a loud sound from the rifle and he had been told that the deer would maybe not fall over right away. As he pulled the trigger he was more focused on not being afraid of the sound that he almost didn’t see where the deer went. Luckily it had collapsed right around where it stood and William got his picture taken with it. His father had seemed so proud that day. 

Years later William decided to live as a professional hunter and freelanced around the country helping regulate animal overabundance and using the meat and hides he collected to sell to cover his living expenses. After expanding his network enough he was asked to join the Murton Estate as staff. William knew the estate had a fair share of private land with many species of wildlife roaming around. It was an opportunity that was hard to walk away from and the deal was sweetened as he was offered room and board. As the gamekeeper of the house he would provide meat for the chef and tend to the woods around the mansion. Using everything he had learned from his childhood he managed to survey and scout out the land, knowing where most of the wildlife would be at what time of year. As long as Master Murton was happy so was he.

William had awoken early in the morning and took in the fresh breeze as the rays of the morning sun shone through his window. He already knew he was going to hunt today, so he had prepared his gear and outfit beforehand and was in the process of double checking his rifle, when the estate manager knocked on his door to fill him in on what was required from him. According to him a young buck had been spotted close to the mansion and the master would like to have it for dinner. William was to hunt it and bring it back in time for the chef to prepare the meat. After he had enquired the estate manager about where exactly it had been spotted, he suited up and went on his way. When we came to the edge of the forest where the animal had been spotted he went to look for tracks that would indicate if he was even in the right place and if so, where it was going. Luckily it had rained so the ground was soft and tracks were easy to spot. Knowing the lay of the land, William hatched a plan to keep the buck from straying too far and maybe luring it to one of the snares he had put up yesterday. Normally he would have checked the snares for small animals like rabbits or even the odd pheasant or two, but he figured he could probably risk it. Moving quietly into the forest he looked for any signs that could point him in the right direction. With the wet tracks to guide him it was almost too easy, like the world’s easiest ‘connect the dots’. Moving deeper into the forest making sure to keep the sun in front of him he started to notice more signs like broken twigs or logs that had been turned over by something kicking it. It almost felt sloppy to him like the poor thing almost wanted to get caught. Keeping low and keeping quiet he moved on, since he could hear the buck grunting somewhere further ahead. It didn’t take William long to spot the animal resting by a tree. He took aim and fired a shot into the tree and watched the buck stumble with fright before it ran off. William held his breath and crossed his fingers, while he listened to the telltale sound of a trap going off. With a smile he heard the snap of a line and the loud thud of a body hitting wet leaves. The cries of the animal soon followed after and William quickly made his way over to it. Staring down at the sprung trap and the snare around his prey’s leg he felt satisfied with himself. The sun hadn’t even gone fully up yet, so he decided he could take some time and sat down on a log across from his prey. 

“You know, normally the big game animals would sense when they were being hunted. Their survival instincts kick in and they can spot a hunter just like that.” 

He accented his point by snapping his fingers, but it seemed like his comment fell on deaf ears. The prey in front of him kept writhing in pain and tried to pull at the string around it’s leg, but it only made it dig deeper into the skin. 

“You know, everything was actually against you today. I’m not sure you really had a chance in the first place. The ground was wet and you kicked over stuff all the way here. Not very smart.”

Finally he got a response from the animal that had stopped struggling and now sat on the ground shivering.

“Fuck you!”

William sighed and weighed his rifle in his hands trying to figure out what to reply to such a crude remark. He opted for looking over his prey, who was actually clothed in natural tones and had his hands unrestrained. He was supposed to have been a challenge. But he had been nothing but a disappointment. 

“I’ve realized that it’s all bullshit. They keep saying man is the most dangerous game there is. But you’re fucking pathetic. You can’t spot me from yards away. You couldn’t smell me coming. You were even fucking downwind! Now what the fuck am I gonna do with the rest of my day?”

The snivelling mess in front of him had resorted to mindless begging which showed William that whatever chance of a conversation had ended. He stood up and unceremoniously aimed his rifle at the chest of the man sitting in front of him. His only thought as he pulled the trigger was that he hoped the next would be more of a challenge.


	19. Day 19: Dizzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracy has returned from her camp and Madison and her decide to finally meet up again before summer officially ends.

It had felt like the longest summer ever to Madison, usually that would be a good thing, but to her it had been a torrent of boredom from the day Tracy had left for camp. Her days had been spent doing nothing with her family and her nights were spent by the radio in the attic hoping that it would turn on and she could hear Tracy’s voice again. Her parents had told her to stop worrying about Tracy or that she might have found some new friends at camp and moved on, but Madison would not believe that. People would watch her when she was outside and giving her dirty looks when they thought she wasn’t looking, but none of it deterred her from hoping the best. Then one night when Madison was back in the attic gazing at the stars a familiar voice came through the radio. 

“Maddy? Are you there?”

Madison could hardly believe it and almost forgot to answer as she scrambled to the radio. With a deep sigh, she composed herself and clicked the button to speak:

“You forgot to say over, over.”

There followed a short pause and then she heard that familiar giggle that could warm her to the core. She wanted to ask her so many questions about the camp, about the summer and about them, but Tracy was a bit faster. 

“Listen Maddy, there’s a lot I want to talk to you about. How about we meet up at the End of Summer fair that’s going on this weekend? We’ll have a great time and just hang out like we did before.”

Her words sounded a bit heavy, but the idea of going to the fair with Tracy filled Madison with a strange sensation like butterflies in her stomach. They said good night and for the rest of the week she looked forward to the fair. Her parents would enquire about her change in mood and she would just tell them that she was looking forward to the fair. She did her best to prepare for everything from what she would wear to what they would do together. She knew she would get a little spending money from her parents, but she made sure to put some to the side as well. The nights in the attic leading up to the fair were uneventful. They mostly talked about random stuff. Tracy had a habit of trying to scare her with urban legends or other stories she had heard. Tracy had even told that there had been a circus with the fair years ago, but there had been an accident and the circus never came back again or anywhere else for that matter. Another night she would tell a story about a ship that had disappeared somewhere off the coast and Tracy was sure they had been taken by mermaids. Madison couldn’t help but laugh at her insane theory. In actuality she was just happy to hear the attic echo with laughter and fantastic stories from all over the place. And finally came the day she was so excited for. The day of the fair. 

Madison had dressed up nicely and found one of her cutest summer dresses. It was slowly getting a bit chilly this late in the summer, but she figured the dress needed one last spin before it was tossed away in a closet for winter. Walking up to the fair she felt the same childlike excitement she had felt the last couple of years when she would go. People were already having a lot of fun, as children were running around laughing. It all felt so different from how her summer had been before. She couldn’t stop smiling as she walked in to find Tracy. They had decided to meet up by the entrance. As she looked around for Tracy, she almost missed her, had it not been for her smiling and waving to catch her attention. Madison was almost astounded by Tracy’s transformation. Her shoulder length dark brown hair had been cut short in a pixie bob style that, at a glance, almost made her look like a boy. Her new style was complimented by a thrifted leather jacket that seemed a bit too large for her, but Madison couldn’t help but think that it made her shoulders look nice and broad. When they finally walked up to each other it was like nothing had changed however. They hugged like they were old friends and went into the fair hand in hand. 

They decided they wanted to try out some rides before it would get too crowded. Tracy had immediately pulled Madison over to the Round Up ride as their first ride, but Madison had some reservations about it. She had never tried it before. Tracy just smiled her charming, reassuring smile and told her:

“If you get dizzy just hold my hand. I’ll make sure you don’t fly away.”

Madison shook her head at the comment and replied to her as they got in line:

“Don’t be stupid, Trace. It won’t even spin that fast.”

Tracy was quick to counter her as she gently nudged her with an elbow.

“You know, I actually saw some carnies try to launch one of their own into space with one of these things. He didn’t go to space, but the people in the town over were very confused.”

Madison couldn’t keep it in, that story was just too stupid. She burst out laughing so loud that people turned around to look. Her laughter slowly died down as she noticed some of them looking at her the same way they had done during the summer, but Tracy didn’t seem to mind. She just pulled Madison past the ticket booth and into the ride as she proudly proclaimed:

“Space Cadet Maddy, let’s go beat those Russian cosmonauts. They might have beaten us in the race to space, but we will beat them… In space!”

After the ride was over and they were let out everything seemed to wobble as if Madison was standing on a ship. She could hardly walk until Tracy had grabbed her arm and pulled her close, wrapping her arm under Tracy’s jacket. It was warm, but seeing as Madison’s dress didn’t have any sleeves she really didn’t mind too much. Especially not when she looked up and saw Tracy’s wide smile that somehow stabilized her enough to walk easily. Madison returned the smile and rested her head against Tracy’s shoulder as they walked through the fair. Some people still stopped to look at them, but at this point neither of them noticed.

It had started to get dark and the girls had started to grow a bit tired. Madison had planned for this however and dragged Tracy to the old Ferris Wheel since the gondolas were small enough to fit a maximum of 3 people, but she knew they never filled them up. It was the perfect ride to get a look at the area. Madison also knew it moved very slowly and maybe a lot of stops, so she would have plenty of time to talk with Tracy. They got into the gondola and soon after the wheel started to move a bit. Madison decided to break the silence and ask an innocent question:

“How was the camp?”

Tracy flinched a bit as if Madison had hit a nerve in her body, but she responded as she ran her fingers through her short hair.

“It was… fine. I’m not really sure why my parents wanted me there. It was just a lot of boring talk and some games and exercises. They could have just sent me to a sports camp…”

She grew quiet for a second before she almost whispered:

“I missed you every day.”

Madison felt a shock go through her body, but it could just as well have been the wheel stopping, regardless she was surprised, but she didn’t understand why. Then it hit her:

“I missed you too, Trace. Every night in the attic. Watching the stars. Waiting for your voice to come through the radio and tell me outrageous stories about werewolves and mermaids and things from beyond the stars. I know you were sent to the camp because of me. They tried to change you, but here you are telling your stupid stories like you always do. Like nothing happened, when it’s obvious something did happen.”

Tracy looked surprised and turned her head to look outside the gondola, she looked pensive to Madison, but Tracy could see a tear rolling down her cheek in the reflection of the dark window. They sat awkwardly as none of them knew what to say for the longest time. Then Tracy broke the silence as they made their way to the very top of the wheel. She had leaned closer to the window and looked up at the sky and said with a gentle voice:

“We’re so high up, you can see the stars really well from here. I’m not sure but to me it looks like they have changed a bit since the last time we saw them together.”

Madison could not look out at the stars, so she couldn’t know if they had actually changed or if Tracy was just telling stories, but she leaned a bit forward, closer to Tracy and held her hand out to her. Tracy turned her head back and looked at the outstretched hand with a quizzical look on her face. But before she could even ask, Madison had already shyly mumbled:

“It’s pretty high up, I think I’m a bit dizzy.”

Tracy gave a small titter, before she grabbed Madison’s hand.

“Don’t worry, Maddy. I won’t let you fly away.”

Looking into each other’s eyes they slowly leaned towards each other and as their lips met in a short, but soft kiss they both had the very same thought: If only the only Ferris Wheel could move just a bit slower.


	20. Day 20: Coral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily is an adventurer that never turns her back on a good story. When she hears about strange sightings at the reefs around Spratly Islands, she goes to investigate.

Emily would never say that she was afraid of the ocean, but she had a hard time agreeing with the people that placed it above all else or said weird stuff like ‘they wished they could live under the sea’. To her the ocean was an adventure. And like many good adventures it was also filled with danger. There was no point in diving head first into something that could potentially kill you, but sometimes what was hiding in the deep would call to her. Through some contacts in Manila, she had heard about fishermen seeing weird things under the surface when they had sailed around the Spratly Islands. When she had travelled to the island of Palawan to talk to the fishermen, she had received a confusing amount of tales. Some had spoken of mermaids, while others had witnessed the more disturbing ‘fish-men’ as her translator had called them. When asked to elaborate, they had claimed it to be the body of a man, but the head and skin of a fish. Initially she had wondered if it was a sort of cryptid or mythological beast that had scared the sailors, since they were known to be a superstitious group. Some of them linked what they had seen to the mythological beings called Siyokoy, but they couldn’t tell if that was really them, since what they had seen looked much more human than animalistic. Emily’s translator could easily tell that his job was just about to get a lot harder, when he saw her eyes light up with intrigue. As they sat down by the waterfront and discussed the coming day, she had gone on and on about what could possibly be down there. Most of the ocean around the islands consisted of reefs, but what if there was more to it? She had heard about the discovery of underwater caves that would at times contain treasures from forgotten civilizations. What the sailors had seen could just as easily have been a sunken statue of some ancient deity. When he left her to return to his room for the night, she was still sitting and wondering about what could be hidden under the waves. If she had asked him, he would have said fish and rocks. 

The wind was blowing through Emily’s hair as their boat zipped across the South China Sea going to one of the reefs the fishermen had pointed her towards. It was still early in the morning, but the early summer sun already stood high in the sky providing great light underwater. The boat had a plexiglass bottom so the captain could keep an eye out while Emily was down there. She had plenty of experience with scuba diving, but it was always a bit thrilling to her when she was doing a new dive. She had checked all her equipment more than once and her wet suit would help her get into any caves she would encounter. She just hoped she could get the oxygen tanks through as well. As she plunged into the water she took the time to admire the underwater scenery. No matter how many times she would see a coral reef, she never got tired of the fluid motions and the almost otherworldly colors. Like they were a secret living garden on a far away planet. After she had done an initial swim around and to no surprise she had found no fish-men she decided to dive a bit deeper down. It was still light enough to see, but her visibility was getting worse and it didn’t help that it seemed like there was a large opening across a part of the reef. It was large enough to easily swim through, so Emily pressed on downwards. The rock walls surrounding her were still in shadow, but she had come prepared. Grabbing a dive torch that she had clipped to her suit, she could finally see around the hole. As she ran the light across the walls, she was astonished to find that there were some sort of etchings. She couldn’t quite place it, but it did resemble the art style of early Pacific civilization. Following the path of the etchings her beam lit up a smaller hole in the rock wall that was decorated with ornate patterns all around it. She swam closer and shone her light inside, but she couldn’t see an end. Luckily she couldn’t see any big fish that wanted to eat her face either, so she inched her body inside. The walls felt smooth as if there had been something scraping against them many times over, which made it easier for Emily to push her way through the hole, but she had to admit that it was a tight fit as the tanks on her back scraped against the rocks every time she moved forward. The tunnel narrowed slightly and she soon felt that she would have to strain herself more than she would have liked to move further ahead. As the tunnel finally widened into a big pool, she was getting winded. But to her surprise she had reached the surface of an underground pool. She swam to the edge and pulled herself up. She took off her scuba gear to release some of the tension on her shoulders and set it aside as she looked around the cave she had found. It was still dark, so she used her light to shine around the cave walls. Similar etchings like she had seen before were all over the walls here as well. She almost wished she had remembered a camera, but it would be easy to mark the place and come back later. The walls shimmered in the light as it travelled across the cave. Right at the edge of her light, she suddenly saw something move rapidly away from the torch, but as she froze and tried to listen she couldn’t hear anything. No echoes or footsteps. She got up as silently as possible and pulled on her gear all while trying to illuminate as much of the cave as possible. Everything was quiet until she heard a small splash in the pool she had come from. Shining the light across the water she couldn’t see anything other than rings in the water, not until something under the surface came close enough to hit the light. Her shriek echoed through the cave, as the thing under the surface quickly retreated. Following its path she gasped as something humanoid pulled itself out of the water at the other side of the pool. The turquoise scales covering the body caught the light and gave the skin a metallic shine like chain mail armor. It still had its back turned to Emily, so she couldn’t see its face. But she figured it was for the best. While it was still above water she dove quickly, since she knew where the hole had been and she was a lot closer to it than the creature was, so even if it had been faster she would make it through before it. As she reached the hole and pressed her body inside, she could hear a splash behind her and she knew it was coming for her. Panicking and with frantic moves she clawed herself through the tight tunnel. But even though she had been able to push through before she suddenly found herself stuck. Desperation started to set in. She didn’t know how far behind that creature was, but if she filled her lungs and ditched her tanks, she could probably rely on her skills as a swimmer to make it to the surface or at least close enough for the captain to see her through the glass. Filling her lungs with air, she slipped out of the oxygen tanks and swam as fast as she could the rest of the way out. As she saw the sunlight shooting down in front of her she felt confident that she would make it. She began to swim up towards the hole that would be the last hurdle before freedom. But just as she felt the waters getting warmer, something wrapped around her ankle and pulled her down. Trying to kick whatever it was off her, she looked down and saw the same creature as before. The body was that of a man, but the face was distorted into something horrible. All black bulgy eyes and mouth that ran almost across the entire face. The creature was clawing away at her leg trying to pull her down, but she kept on trying to kick it off her. To her horror she noticed more of the creatures coming from the shadows of the rock walls and swimming rapidly towards her. A final kick freed her and she made a final mad dash to the mouth of the hole. The light from the sun had gradually dimmed more and more and Emily finally saw why. The hole above her was rapidly being overgrown with coral. It was remarkable to see, since she knew it was scientifically impossible for it to happen. Her mouth was forced open by her body as it tried to take a breath, which filled her lungs with water. As her throat collapsed, she felt her body being pulled back into the cold dark water, but strong scaly hands.


	21. Day 21: Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've been plagued by sleep paralysis most of your life, but it has never been anything you couldn't handle. Other people seem to have it rougher than you, but suddenly you start to see the things they've seen.

I’ve been told it’s called sleep paralysis. It was not something that happened consistently enough to warrant looking into a possible cure. The best thing I could do was try and anticipate it whenever I was awoken at night. As a child I was more prone to sleepwalking and would often find myself waking up in strange situations, like holding a stack of books as I tried to clean them up off the floor. Back then it was a strange sensation like being awake enough to sense what was going on around you, but having no control over your body or actions. One time I had been watching helplessly as my body got up and moved over to a closet only to open it and get inside. Just like always waking up was the worst part. Since sleepwalking still felt like a dream there was a sort of disconnect to reality. Even though I knew I had entered the closet I still woke up feeling afraid, since I didn’t know where I was. I thought it would change as I got older, but it simply evolved. Living alone provided me with all new different things to worry about. No one would be there to help me calm down if I woke up and couldn’t figure out where I was. During this time I was lucky to not have many episodes during that time. It started up again when I moved into another apartment with my partner. Maybe the constant noise of people living around me was starting to get to me. The stress of your home never being truly quiet no matter what time it might be. The first truly visceral experience I had in that apartment came about when I stopped dreaming and saw my bedroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t hear anything, but looking at the ceiling I noticed that it began to crumble. It tricked my mind enough to wake my partner up in a panic, but in the middle of doing so I came to and realized my mistake. 

Since then, when I had my episodes, I would be convinced that something about my bedroom was wrong. It could be the idea that water was slowly rising around my bed and I couldn’t get out of it. Other times I would not even be safe in my bed as it felt like it was swallowing me whole before I woke up. Speaking to others I found out that I was considered lucky. I had never seen any hallucinations of figures or shadows in my room. As I dove deeper into it, I got in touch with another who had recurring episodes of shadow people moving about the room. But they never came closer or got on the bed. Another told me about an episode where he had woken up and was unable to breathe or move only to see a shadow figure sitting on their chest. He had told me that the worst part was, when he had woken up completely and the figure had dissipated, he could still feel the pressure on his chest. Both of these people had told me they still slept horrible to this day, but they had been having difficulties trying to get help, since most attributed it to stress or asked them to see a psychologist. We kept in touch until they gradually checked in less, before stopping altogether. I didn’t think much of it, since it was an open forum and people would come and go, especially in a place that dealt with sleep issues. It was mostly an outlet for me anyway, since my partner didn’t really seem to understand what happened, but they had learned to roll with it, if I was having an episode. At first I didn’t notice it, but during an episode, where I woke up on my hands and knees trying to pull my hands out of the sticky mud that my brain had convinced itself that my bed sheet was, I had a moment to look around. I don’t remember if I was completely awake, but it looked odd to me that the blinds on my window were open and I could see a shadowy figure pacing back and forth outside my window. After a few seconds it stopped and turned its head as if it was looking at me, but since it was lacking a face and everything around me was dark already I couldn’t be sure. Finally regained control over my body as I looked down at my hands that were completely free of mud. Turning my head to my window, I was relieved to see that the blinds were in fact closed as they normally were. I decided not to burden my partner with an unnecessarily creepy story from my already annoying episodes at this point, so I kept it to myself. It would be almost a week before I had another episode, which was more frequent than normally, but nothing that would alarm me. However it was my first auditory hallucination. Some people told me they’ve heard screaming or sirens, but to me it was a whisper that seemed just loud enough to pull me out of sleep, but quiet enough to keep me in that state of in-between. None of it made any sense and before I could hear it more clearly it faded as I woke up completely. Following a few nights later I noticed that the shadowy figure had moved from the window to inside the room. It might have been there as well when I heard the whispers, but there was no way I could have seen it then. Again the figure simply paced around the room, but never close enough for me to see it clearly. Always just at the edge of the room where it could easily have been mistaken for a regular shadow, but even so it still triggered a sense of dread in me. A feeling I had mostly gotten used to, but still jolted my body every time I had an episode. 

It finally culminated in the worst episode I have ever experienced. I had read about others having similar experiences, but I wished I had never witnessed it myself. It had started with the usual. I woke up to my body being frozen completely. I was laying on my back which was unusual for me as that never happened. I remember that I already felt the onset of fear creeping in before I even saw anything. The other thing was how wet I was feeling, but I had been sweating before during some of the bad panic attacks, so at the time I didn’t figure something was wrong. That soon changed when I felt my bed shift. Not my body, but my bed like someone was climbing onto it. Looking down I noticed something crawling up from under the bed and slowly inching its way over my legs. As it got closer I started to feel the weight of it on my legs as they became impossible to move. I had never seen anything like it. I remember I tried to scream, but just like when you try to scream in a dream it felt like it was stuck in my throat, choking me the more I strained myself. As it hovered above my chest I could feel my body slowly wake up as well, but the creature didn’t disappear. It stayed on me crushing my body under its weight. I tried to move my arm, if I could at least grab my partner and wake them up it would maybe pull me out of it. But as I pulled on the body I could see that even though I was rocking the body back and forth the head stayed completely still facing away from me. Looking back at the creature on top of me it had suddenly vanished, but it had left behind a terrible reminder as I finally realized I wasn’t wet with sweat, but rather the blood from the torn throat of the body lying next to me. 

I had tried to explain my case, but how do you explain that a manifestation of sleep paralysis had killed and torn off the head of your partner? It still returns even now, but my new bedroom is locked from the outside. Sometimes it’s in the walls, sometimes it’s under my bed, but it never comes closer than that. Most nights I’m strapped in and can’t move, so I think it enjoys watching me squirm without it having to do anything. Some nights I wake up thinking that it has finally come to crush me, but it’s always just the restraints. And even though I’m wide awake screaming my lungs out, it still stands by my bed, always just watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being someone who has experienced sleep paralysis and sleepwalking, I felt it would be interesting to build a story around some of the things I've felt and witnessed. Some of the things have been greatly exaggerated of course, but most of the experiences including the shadow figure on my legs have been real things that happened to me at some point.


	22. Day 22: Chef

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hitoshi works as a chef for the Murton Estate and receives the prey from William's hunt. His task is to make a dinner that would please the lord of the house.

Hitoshi had been the Murton estate’s head chef for many years at that point. It had been a long journey to finetune his cooking to Lord Murton’s specific desires and every day was still unnerving to him on account of the Lord’s sudden impulses. He had been headhunted by the estate since he had worked in the raw food restaurants around Japan specializing in handling delicate cuts and preparing the toxic pufferfish. At times he had learned that the exotic cuisine of the Eastern World could prove too much of an acquired taste. But as the cultural elite had become more open to the diverse world of food, so had Lord Murton. By now Hitoshi would normally get away with most of his dishes, but the times where he had failed were times he would not wish to repeat anytime soon. 

He had already prepared the kitchen when he heard the estate manager coming in. Apparently Gamekeeper William had been out hunting and was on his way with fresh meat. Hitoshi already knew that meant he had to prepare a lot of dishes. Lord Murton disliked wasting meat and was a firm believer that everything on a body could be used for something. William soon entered the kitchen with his prey in tow. Hitoshi liked William a lot, they both seemed to be in tune about how they were supposed to work together. Hitoshi had set some basic rules that he would like William to follow when it came to handling the meat and he had never been anything but satisfied with William’s work. He asked William as he did every time they met in the kitchen:

“How long since it died?”

William quickly looked at his watch and replied promptly:

“8 minutes. It didn’t get as far as I had anticipated.”

Hitoshi nodded shortly and gave the body in front of him a quick lookover. Again he couldn’t help but appreciate William’s effective work. Single shot clean through the heart with minimal damage and he had even gotten it back to the kitchen in no time at all. 

“Any buckshot I should be aware of?”

William shook his head. He knew to answer precisely as that was how Hitoshi liked it.

“No, single shot by a .243 bullet. I was able to get close to it… Before I forget, it bled pretty fast, so I did my best to collect a good portion in case you wanted to use it. I’ll let you work in peace, Hitoshi-san.”

William placed a large container filled with blood on the table as well and walked over to the door. Hitoshi cleared his throat and did his best to show his appreciation for his hunter.

“Your work is greatly appreciated. I will be sure to pass it on to Lord Murton.” 

William simply raised his hand as he walked out the door leaving Hitoshi to work his magic in peace. 

Although many had linked human meat to pork their appearances always felt foreign to each other in Hitoshi’s eyes. And even now as he had begun butchering the body and separating the different cuts he wanted to use, he always saw the red meat as something closer to beef. At this point he had planned out the dinner up until the main course. But he was sure he would figure out something along the way. The possibilities were endless at this point in time. Having already put the container with blood in the refrigerator, he started to wonder about the applications of it. But it would be something to prepare just before dinner and he would rather use his time wisely, since he had some more time consuming dishes to prepare. He had cut a strip of lean meat from the upper leg close to the thigh and cleaned it up by removing the worst parts of fat and sinew. Afterwards he seared the meat using a gas torch to give the edge a nice color. As he cut the meat in small bite sized portions he arranged them almost as petals on a flower and visualized a small bowl in the middle as the stamen of the flower. He set it aside to cool down as he didn’t need it just yet. As he got a look at the container of blood once again, he decided to give it a try since dinner was beginning to approach. As he poured a portion out into a bowl and mixed it together with some red wines for flavor and added just some hints of fresh herbs to it, he was told by the butler that the Lord was starting to prepare for dinner. Hitoshi sighed with relief. He had been just in time. Quickly he went to the wine room and picked out a sparkling rosé from Baglietti for the pre-dinner drink. He had a feeling the theme tonight would be red anyway, so he wanted to offer the lord a little hint already. After opening it and giving it a taste, he felt satisfied to send it with the butler along with the message that dinner was on the way. 

Finishing up his experiment by adding a bit of sour cream for extra thickness, he grabbed some fresh vegetables and cut them into sticks before he arranged them on a plate with the deep red sauce poured into a small bowl.    
The first presentation was normally the worst for him. This would be his chance to gauge Lord Murton’s mood. Luckily when he came out with his appetizer the lord had looked content almost excited to see what was in store for dinner. Hitoshi placed the tray in front of him and described the dish:

“I’ve prepared an appetizer in the form of crudités of garden vegetables that were harvested this morning. As Lord Murton might have guessed from the rosé earlier I’ve been so bold as to make the theme red. So the dipping sauce is made with fresh blood, harvested by your own gamekeeper William and mixed with a powerful red from Château Mouton Rothschild and a hint of Taylor’s Port vintage from 1963. There are local herbs like rosemary and just a bit of sour cream mixed in to keep it creamy. I’ve taken the liberty to select the rest of the red wine as your wine pairing for this as well as the next dish. I hope it is to your liking.”

Giving a signature nod he returned to his kitchen after Murton had taken his first bite and approved. Luckily the next dish was the cut from the leg that he had arranged as a flower. Filling a bowl in the middle with ponzu and decorating a bit of wasabi to act as leaves, he awaited the servant who would return with the empty tray. Satisfied to see that the bowl with his sauce was empty, he made his way back to the table and presented his next dish after graciously accepting praise for his experiment:

“I have permitted myself to the amusement of naming this dish after my homeland. Chiniku no Hana. It is a flower made with sashimi from thigh meat that has been prepared aburi, meaning the edge is seared leaving the middle still red. It is served with my own homemade ponzu and wasabi leaves, if Lord Murton would like some more spice.” Again he waited for the lord to take his first bite before he returned to the kitchen. He would have to work fast at that point since he had plenty to prepare. Luckily prepared a secret weapon. A freshly made blood sausage with the remaining blood from his experiment and some of the lesser cuts of meat. Grabbing both the sausage, heart and liver, he started to lather it up with one of the marinades he had on hand and flame grilled all of it. Afterwards he cut and prepared them with grilled potatoes mixed with garlic and thyme. All of it was accented by a deeply colored red wine sauce. He had almost made the lord wait too long, but he managed to make it out just in time. Composing himself before presenting his dish, he sighed silently and took a deep breath:

“As is customary according to the estate, My Lord. I have done my best to let nothing go to waste from today’s kill. I have prepared a blood sausage with the remainder of the blood from my sauce experiment and decided to make a sort of collage of the inner workings of the body as I have flame grilled the sausage along with the heart and liver. All of which has been sliced and served with fresh grilled potatoes in garlic and thyme as well as a red wine sauce. I’ve selected a Sangiovese grape from Case Basse Di Gianfranco Soldera in Tuscany. I cannot resist to let My Lord in on the fact that the name comes from Latin meaning the blood of Jupiter. Please enjoy and feel free to call for me at any time.” 

As he retreated to the kitchen he could finally breathe easy. He had done his very best and could only hope that Lord Murton had felt the same way. Allowing himself a small victory, he poured a small glass of the remaining port wine and enjoyed it to the fullest. He had begun cleaning, when the server had suddenly called on him. Lord Murton wanted to have a word with him. Maybe his victory had been announced a bit too early. Lord Murton rarely wanted to talk after dinner. Hitoshi slowly made his way into the dining hall and presented himself. Lord Murton had really let him stew as he simply stared at him for what seemed like ages. Finally he spoke, slowly, as if he had been wondering about what to say:

“Hitoshi, you say that you would leave no waste, but I can’t help but think there’s still plenty of body left? Would you care to explain?”

Hitoshi felt a sort of relief. Although it was new territory, he would love nothing more than to talk about his future ideas. 

“My lord, most of the bones are being used to make a broth at this very moment for ramen, a type of noodle soup that is starting to become very popular within the cultural elite. I’m sure My Lord would appreciate it as it would be something to impress his future guests with. The skin will be used for a specialty from the island of Okinawa and the rest is being packaged for use in future dishes, when the Lord desires.”

Hitoshi held his breath after speaking and hoped for the best as Lord Murton sat and mulled over his words. The air felt heavy around his shoulders and even though Lord Murton was sitting, it still felt like he was looking down at Hitoshi. As the Lord finally cracked a smile the air suddenly lifted as did his spirits. They didn’t exchange any further words, but both nodded in appreciation before parting. Hitoshi finished his duties for the day with the relief of knowing that he had made it one more day as the chef instead of the dish.


	23. Day 23: Rip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissa is home sick with a rash. She decides to cuddle up and watch some TV while she waits for her mom to come home.

“Both in human tales and the animal kingdom there seems to be a recurring theme of metamorphosis, often signified by a new step on the path of life. The larvae breaks out of a cocoon and turns to a butterfly, a snake molts its skin. The male deers shed a skin on their antlers, when they become fully-grown. Unlike the animal kingdom humans do not undergo such a transformation. The most visual representation of a transformation happens when a baby loses their first teeth. We do not wrap ourselves in a cocoon during puberty or need to shed our skin to make room for our growing skeleton…”

Melissa had been sitting in front of the TV for some time without actually watching anything. She had been staying at home with a fever for the last couple of days and in her attempt to keep her brain from rotting away she had tried to watch a documentary, but she had not been entirely sure if it was actually about anything. She had wrapped herself in a soft blanket, since she had developed an annoying rash on her arms. She had already tried to soothe it with aloe vera and had wrapped the blanket tightly to shield her from too much outside stimuli. As she sat in her chair trying to keep her eyes open, she wondered if her friends at school were starting to miss her and if whatever they were doing was as boring as the documentary on TV. It was just a guy talking in a room:

“When it comes to the idea of human metamorphosis, it becomes a lot more different. As humans we have, historically speaking, seen the human body as something that simply grows old and expires. So in stories, we never see humans undergoing metamorphosis to a greater version of the human body. Myths from Ancient Greece tells us stories of gods changing form into animals in order to visit the human world.”

Melissa was unsure if it was the blanket or her body that was so hot, but it felt like her t-shirt and shorts clinged to her body like a disgusting layer of film over her skin. Trying not to move too much, she wrestled the rest of her clothes off and tossed it in a pile next to the chair. She felt a bit of relief and sank deep into the comfortable blanket. But it wasn’t long until her rash began to itch, just slightly at first, like small pricks from a pin all along her arms. She tried to shuffle around in her blanket to let the soft fabric handle the worst part of it, but the itching had woken her up a bit more. She noticed that the documentary was still on and that the weird format was not something she had imagined. It was a young man, who Melissa would almost describe as pretty instead of handsome, standing in an empty room. It was devoid of any set pieces or visual cues that would help with his explanations. As she began to focus on the TV, he continued to speak:

“Considering a myth like that of Apollo and Daphne, where the metamorphosis occurs in the act of turning a human into an inanimate object seems almost to not yield any sort of evolution. If we shift the point of view a bit, we don’t see a human becoming something useless and inanimate. We see a human transforming into something that can withstand a god.”

Melissa was unsure how long she had been scratching her arms, but a sharp pain made her stop instantly. She looked down to examine her arms and saw that the skin had changed from a red rash to a dry and crusty mess. To her it looked like dry mud that had been baking under the sun for too long and was beginning to crack. Where the pain had been she noticed a strip of skin that was hanging freely at the end of one of the cracks in her skin. When she tried to tug on it, she flinched as it felt like it was connected to the flesh underneath her skin and pulling it sent a sharp pain through her arm. Just as she had been warm before she suddenly felt colder and wrapped the blanket over her head as well, so she was completely hidden inside a ball of fabric. Unable to watch the TV, she could still hear the young man speaking as if he was sitting in the blanket with her:

“Lastly there’s the myths of humans transforming into great wild beasts. An easy example would be the werewolf of European folklore or the offspring of a transformed human and an animal, the Minotaur. All of these stories seem frightening at first, but unnatural change like that can be frightening. But is it at all that different than growing from child to adult? Or larva to butterfly?”

Melissa was about to lose her mind from the itchiness, but she was afraid to scratch it. Looking at her other arm, she saw something close to her shoulder that looked like an edge going around her arm. As she touched it, it started to loosen up, but unlike the other arm, she thought it felt good and smooth. Pulling at it she saw how the top layer of her skin peeled to reveal a shiny new layer underneath. Even though it looked flaky the outer skin held together surprisingly well and after she had pulled it down past her fingers, she was left with something that resembled snakeskin, but was formed like a mirror image of her arm. Putting it aside in her blanket, she looked back at her other arm and tried to see if she could find any edge there. She started to scratch in the cracks on her skin to see what was underneath, but it was hard to see anything in the sparse light. As she tried to scratch deeper and pull a bit more, she heard the man on TV bring a closing statement:

“The idea of metamorphosis has provided us with fascinating stories that helped us understand or describe things we might not have understood throughout time. It’s an integral part of the animal kingdom around us, but still we are not affected by it on a scale as massive as a butterfly emerging from a cocoon or a woman turning into a tree. The human metamorphosis is subtle and happens gradually from when we are born and until we die. Miniscule changes in our biology that help us to move forward in our evolution. And who knows, maybe in time we will require something more imminent like shedding your skin.”

Melissa’s mom had finally come home with groceries and was wondering if her daughter was feeling any better. After calling out to her and setting the groceries in the kitchen she walked into the living room where she had last seen her. An unfamiliar sound reached her before she entered the room and it should have served as a warning, but walking into the living room she was taken aback by the horrible sight in front of her. The first thing she noticed was the torn blanket on the chair that looked like it was ripped cocoon broken open from the inside. Following a bloody trail from it down onto the floor she saw her daughter sitting in front of the TV scratching her right arm. It seemed like she had been scratching intently at some places, where noticeable hollows were present. She had to look away as Melissa stuck a finger into a deep wound and scratched at something that sounded hard, nothing like skin or flesh. Pulling herself together she hurried over to grab Melissa’s left hand to stop her from scratching, but it was then that she noticed the left arm wasn’t covered in blood, like she initially thought. Following from a bit under the shoulder she saw that the skin on the left arm had been completely torn off, leaving only flesh, muscle and blood. Looking away from her daughter she saw what had become of the missing skin. It had been neatly folded on top of Melissa’s clothes that were bundled up next to the chair. Retching and nauseous from the horrible scene she had witnessed, she felt a hand on her shoulder and heard her daughter’s calm voice:

“Don’t worry, mama. I’m almost there. I just have to get to the clean new skin underneath.”


	24. Day 24: Dig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has taken his new girlfriend, Susan on a date to an old Indian burial ground. But things get a bit strange when he starts to hear voices.

Although the music from Harry’s car stereo was cranked up, he still heard the voice of the woman sitting in the passenger seat loud and clear:

“So, where are we going, handsome?”

Harry looked over at his passenger, a woman named Susan, that he had met a couple of weeks ago. It was supposed to be one of their big days out and he had wanted to surprise her with something different. He smiled at her and laid a hand on her thigh.   
“There's an old archeological excavation site I want to show you. You told me you were interested in it, so I read into it and found the site. It has been abandoned though, so I’m not sure we will find anything.” 

Susan giggled happily and leaned against the window. Harry noticed that she didn’t remove his hand from her thigh, which made his heart flutter a bit. Susan looked out of the window at the passing scenery and seemed to dream herself away to their upcoming adventure. It was already late in the day, but the sun was still high on the sky on account of the warm summer season.   
Harry took the chance to reminisce a bit about their relationship. They had met each other by chance at a bookstore, when they were both looking for the same book about Indian burial grounds. He had found out that Susan wanted to become an archeologist and Harry was studying to become an anthropologist. It couldn’t have been better. It wasn’t long until they met again and their bond grew stronger over their shared interests. She has talked about how it would be cool to visit a burial ground or an old ghost town, so Harry hurried back home to find the perfect spot. The same spot they were on the way to at that moment. 

The car pulled up to a patch of dirt that had served as a makeshift parking lot a long time ago and as Harry got out of the car he was hit by the beautiful sight of mounds of rock and sand that had been dug out of the earth. It was incredibly vast so either it had been a huge burial ground or the people digging it out had had a hard time finding the right spot. With a chuckle he hurried over to the passenger side and dramatically opened the door for Susan and held out a hand to help her out:

“We have arrived at your destination.”

She got out and allowed Harry to wrap his arm around her as they looked across the site in front of them. Deciding it was still too early to have some dinner they started to take a walk through the site to see if they could find anything exciting. After a brief walk, Harry seemed to hear something like a whisper carried on the winds. He had to stop for a moment to listen, but it was already gone. Susan was still holding on to him, but she looked up with a bit of worry:

“Are you okay, Harry?”

Harry just smiled and reassured her that nothing was wrong, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone. Especially not since the whispers would keep coming back around on the wind. He did his best to ignore him and told Susan to look around the area for stuff while he unloaded the car. While he walked back the whispers got louder and more audible:

“Harry? Where are you going? Don’t leave, please…”

He turned around to see if it was Susan, but she was sitting at the spot where he had left her and looked around the dirt, so it couldn’t have been her. He did hurry to the car and back again. Susan looked up as he approached her. He had brought shovels and a nice blanket for them to sit on. He spread out the blanket and let Susan sit on it first before she invited him to sit next to her. She didn’t say much, but her eyes told him everything. They leaned closer to each other and kissed for a brief moment. As Harry pulled pack he noticed that Susan was still leaned forward, so he went in to kiss her again. This time more passionately. Yet again the whispers flew all around him:

“Harry? What are you doing? Where are you? I can’t see you!”

The whispers were clear enough that he could hear them coming from several voices, but he tried to block them out. But the more he tried the louder they got. As he broke away from the kiss he abruptly stood up and looked around as he shouted out:

“Who is it?! Just shut up! SHUT UP!”

Fearing that he would have scared Susan, he looked back down at the blanket, but whatever looked back at him wasn’t Susan. What lay at his feet was the corpse of a woman that had once been Susan. Her limbs were already cold and stiff and whatever life had been in her eyes had been completely extinguished. He had seen her at the bookstore before their first meet. She had looked so lonely, but he was afraid to approach her then. She wasn’t speaking to him anymore, but the whispers were almost mocking him at this point:

“Harry… another one? There are already so many.”

He turned away from the blanket and body and started to dig. He had approached Susan knowing what she had been looking for in the bookstore. She had agreed to go for a walk with him and they had ended up by his home. She had stayed in the basement for a couple of weeks before she was broken. The voices continued, some laughing, some crying, some jeering at him:

“You said I was the only one! How long did this whore last? When will it end?!”

Wrapping the body in the blanket he rolled it into the grave he had dug and began to shovel dirt on top of it. With every bit of dirt the whispers faded, but Susan’s voice grew louder:

“Harry? What are you doing? Please, don’t leave me here with them. I thought we had something special.”

Stomping the dirt flat, he thought it would drown out the voices, but all the Susan’s were still as loud as ever. Their pleas, their laughter and their crying followed him all the way to the car and only disappeared as he turned on the car and cranked up the music from the car stereo and drove away.


	25. Day 25: Buddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in a basement and are saved by a man who saw you get dragged into the forest by a maniac. But can you really trust him?

Your body aches as you slowly wake up. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, but you can lean it back against what you assume to be a wall or backrest, since you think that you are sitting up straight in a chair. You want to open your eyes, but only one lid slides open. The other lid remains shut, but there’s a slight pull, like something sticky is holding it shut. As you try to lift your hands to wipe your face, you realize that you are tied to the chair you’re sitting in. You are still too weak from waking up to try and move too much, so you try and look around the room. It’s almost completely dark and the few windows around offer little light. What worries you more is that you are having a hard time remembering what happened to you. Nothing seems to come to mind no matter how hard you try to think. You don’t recall if you were outside your home or going somewhere. Your body begins to feel less sluggish as your mind clears a bit. Your memory remains hazy, but you start to become more aware of your surroundings. You’re relieved to see that you still have most of your clothes on, although your t-shirt looks torn. Your shorts feel and look empty, so whoever put you in this place grabbed your belongings like your wallet and phone. Checking your exposed limbs for cuts you find out that you have been mostly bruised, but you would really like to get your head checked out in a mirror, since the congealed blood over your eye seems to be pretty excessive. You examine your restraints with renewed energy and notice that they are zip ties tightly wrapped around your wrists and legs. Moving your arms makes the plastic dig into your skin, but the pain mixes together with all the other parts of your body that hurt when you move. You quickly come to terms with the fact that you can’t break your restraints, but right as you are about to give up, you hear someone coming down a set of stairs in the dark. You tense up and stay quiet until you hear a whisper:

“Hello, is anybody down here?”

The whole situation is still terrifying to you and you have a hard time making up your mind if you should yell out or not. Your throat feels coarse, so you are not even sure you can actually yell out, but you end up calling out in a tiny voice. It is enough to reach whoever called out, since you suddenly become blinded by a flashlight shining right at you. You hear footsteps running towards you and when the white flashes in front of your eye trails off you notice a man crouched in front of you looking at your restraints. He looks up at you and smiles calmly. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here.” 

You try to wrap your head around who he could be. He is not dressed as a cop or paramedic, but rather a regular guy looking like he’s on his way back from work. You slowly form a question as the man pulls out a knife:

“Who… are you? Cop?”

The man stops for a second and looks up at you. He seems worried, but you have a hard time reading his expressions through the strange reflections of the flashlight. He starts to cut the zip ties and explains rapidly:

“Nah, buddy. I was just on my way home and I noticed some psycho dragging you into the woods on my way through. I’m just a guy who lives in the town nearby. Don’t know where the guy went, but I’m glad I found you. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here.”

The guy cuts through your restraints and helps you stand up after confirming you can actually move. He guides you to a sink and allows you to wash your face. You check the gash on your forehead, but it seems like it stopped bleeding a long time ago, in fact it doesn’t hurt as much as it would appear. You look back at your new friend after quenching your thirst with some water that could have been filtered a lot better. He has kept the light on you to help you see, but you notice he’s not really looking around that much. You decide to get some more info on your situation:

“Listen, I’m not really sure what happened. I wasn’t even out driving, I think. How long have I been here?” 

The man lowers his flashlight to avoid blinding you again and turns it towards the place he came from, he looks like he’s thinking or maybe he’s just staying alert, then he replies:

“Well… I’m not sure. Seems like he dragged you from your car, just a small walk from here.I would have to say it’s been 20 minutes since I saw you. I think you’ve been in here for maybe 10 minutes. Look, I really think we should get out of here. I already called the cops, but it would be better if we were not here when they come and shoot the place up, you understand?”

You don’t really understand. How can 20 minutes feel like so much longer? And you are still sure you never drove anywhere. You ask one last question:

“What type of car was it?”

The man looks at you with a weird expression. You feel like he might be trustworthy, but nothing he says lines up. He sighs deeply and lowers his voice:

“Listen, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m the only person in the area besides the motherfucker who did this, so you can trust the guy who trapped you in this basement or the guy who cut you free and has a car waiting to drive us out of here. Your car was a green Suzuki. Are we doing this, buddy?”

You still have your reservations, but it is hard to argue that he got your car right. You decide to look around for a weapon, but the basement is completely empty. You make a small morbid remark about the murder basement being not at all well-equipped, but your friend doesn’t laugh. He looks up the stairs, shining his flashlight in front of him. He indicates for you to move and you stay behind him, since he has the only source of light and the only weapon between the two of you. As you slowly make your way up the stairs there’s a squeaking noise coming from above. You both freeze and remain quiet, but luckily the sound moves away. You both press on and make your way upstairs. The house looks better than you had imagined. But anything above a cannibal cabin would have been a surprise to you. The walls are neatly decorated with nice wallpaper that look outdated, but still in good condition. There are no carpets, which makes it easier for you to hear footsteps, but you realize that just as you can hear footsteps, so can whoever did this to you. Both you and the man tread carefully as you make your way towards the entrance. The house is not overwhelmingly huge, so you easily find your way there. But it’s almost a bit too easy. You look around to make sure no one is coming and then you reach for the door. You do your best to keep the man in view the whole time, but again nothing seems to happen. Quietly you open the door and slip outside, before you make sure he is outside as well. You look around, but there are no cars. Only forest all around you. The night is almost pitch black and the moon is nowhere to be seen because of the dense trees. You look at the man expecting him to lead you:

“So which way to your car?”

He raises his flashlight away from the house and nods his head, while he whispers:

“Just up this path, buddy. We’ll be out of here in no time.” 

You only get a few feet before you hear the door behind you slam open. You don’t look back, but the fear in your friend’s eyes tells you everything you need to know. He yells at you to run and even though your body still hurts and your legs feel heavy you still find the strength to run. You can’t see anything except the light from the flashlight bouncing in front of you. There’s a clear path in front of you so you simply follow it through the woods. Occasionally you hear the man yell behind you to keep moving, but you know he’s still there as the light stays on you. Finally it hits a truck up ahead and you almost fling yourself around it to the passenger’s seat. You try the door and it opens so you hurry inside. Weirdly enough you feel safe. Not far off you see the man come running towards the truck and hurry inside. He already has his car key ready and revs the engine. The truck swerves a bit as the engine roars and you take off down the road. You look around to see if you can spot your car or any car. You turn your head to your savior and laugh in relief, but your laugh dies down when you drive for a while and still see no one. You try to keep calm and ask almost casually:

“So, you called the cops, right? You know when they’ll be here?”

The man turns to you and smiles. He tells you not to worry and that maybe it will be faster to get you to the nearby town. You lean back and look out the window trying to calm yourself. In the distance you see the lights from a small town. Lights mean people and people mean safety. You smile and feel a huge weight being dropped from your shoulders. The man next to you chuckles and nods happily. He slaps the steering wheel a couple of times and yells out:

“Woo! Looks like we’re in the clear. The police are on the way and we’re that much closer to a nice bed, a warm shower and some first aid.” 

You start to feel like a fool for having doubted the man next to you and as you swallow your pride, you offer your apologies:

“I can’t believe I misjudged you. Thank you so much for helping me out, I don’t know what I would if you hadn’t come along.”

The man turns his head towards you. His expression changes from a compassionate smile to a deranged look devoid of any human emotions. He starts to laugh, at first slightly, but then in a full blown cackle. He nods his head and you suddenly feel someone grabbing you from the back seat and holding you tight against the seat. The man stops laughing to speak to you as he slows the truck down and begins to turn it around:

“Oh buddy. It’s the same every time. You really need to stop trusting me. But, God, I love seeing the hope in your eyes when you see the town, only for it to be snuffed out. Maybe you’ll do better tomorrow.”

You begin to panic, but only for a second, when you feel the sharp pain of a syringe injecting something into your shoulder. For a moment it clears your mind. It finally dawns on you why your wounds look so healed and how it could be that the blood from your forehead looked so dry.

You slowly wake up and look around. It seems like you are in a basement of some kind, but the lights are off and you have a hard time looking around. A shuffle and rattle of some chains jolts you completely awake and you see a man huddled in the darkness. He moves closer to you and tries to get your attention:

“Hey buddy. Can you help me out? I can get us out of here. My car is parked a bit away.” 


	26. Day 26: Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose lives alone in a mansion somewhere secluded, but her peace is disturbed when strangers suddenly intrude on her property

The intruders had already made it inside the house. Rose had been living alone in her mansion for many years, since she inherited it from her parents. It was in a secluded area where not a lot of people usually showed up. So seeing a couple of trucks and a van pull up was unsettling to say the least. They hadn’t seen her yet, but she noticed they were going around putting up cameras in different rooms downstairs. Peering out over the staircase she would catch glimpses of them, but it wasn’t long until they began to move upstairs and closer to her. She quickly fled into the room furthest from the stairs and hid in a corner. She could hear the intruders walk around into the different rooms. They didn’t speak to each other, but meticulously ran through every room until one of them came into hers. She had made sure to hide herself behind a dresser and only peeked out when the sound of footsteps started to move back towards the door. She caught a glimpse of the man as he walked out the door again. He wasn’t masked, but he had very simple black clothes on. Someone who could easily hide in the dark. Lucky for her it was still daylight and she knew her house inside and out. Just as soon as they had arrived, they all exited the house and went over to the van parked outside. She was scared to move too close to the window, but she could almost make out that it was 7 different people all wearing the same outfits. They all stood around a folding table and looked like they were discussing a plan. They had documents and blueprints laid out on the table and some were pointing and explaining, from what she could see. They stayed outside until the sun began to set and it turned dark. 

As it got gradually darker outside, so did the house and Rose was starting to become scared. She didn’t know what they wanted. It was not like there was anything of value in the house. She had always lived a very frugal lifestyle, so they couldn’t rob her. And why the cameras? Was it only so they would know where she was? She had been holed up in the room for a long time, so she decided to try and move to another area, since the darkness would probably keep her hidden. As she got out into the hall, she heard the front door downstairs slam shut and hushed voices speak. 

“Okay, we’ll search the house in teams of two. We’ll check each floor. Hannah and Carlos go upstairs. Troy and Jack, basement. Allison, you’re with me on this floor. Steve will call in if he sees anything on the cameras.”

Right, the cameras. Rose looked around to see if she could spot one. Luckily the small red dot gave them away, so she knew what to look for. It didn’t matter too much since she heard people making their way up the stairs. She quickly ducked into a room that she had used as a small library. She was glad that she had been an avid collector of books, so there would be plenty of bookcases to hide behind. She crawled away into a corner as quietly as possible, just in time for 2 of the people to enter the room. They were hard to spot in the dark, but it made it easier that one of them held something that looked like a camera. They didn’t say anything at first, but seemed to do a sweep of the room, maybe to see if they could spot her. So she kept her head down and hid as well as she could. The girl, who didn’t hold the camera sat down in a chair, from what Rose could see. She looked relaxed and casually looked around the room before she called out:

“Rose? Are you here?”

Rose did her best to keep quiet. How did they know her name? She figured they must have had it somewhere in their documents. She kept low and crawled along the bookcase, but stopped, when the woman called out again:

“Rose? Wanna talk to us? Can you give us a sign that you’re here?”

That cheeky bitch was mocking her! She figured she could probably sneak out if she made a small diversion. She grabbed a book and did her best to look for an opening. When both of them looked away she tossed the book against the back wall somewhere behind the woman sitting down. She was almost surprised at how scared they had been. But it was a tense situation, so she didn’t let the moment pass before she slipped back into the hall and tried to do her best to avoid the camera. Somewhere behind her she could footsteps running around the library. She had made the right decision to get out of there when she could. Trying to make as little noise as possible she made her way down the stairs and kept close vigilance, since she knew there would be more people around this floor. She tried to make her way to the front door, at least she might be able to outrun that one guy in the van or maybe she could sneak around the house. Moving towards the door she noticed that the person who had delegated orders was standing with his back to her in another room off from the entrance. She froze for a moment, but it didn’t seem like he had seen her. She could, however, see her reflection in a mirror hanging in front of the guy. She quickly moved away, but maybe she had gone too fast. She heard the guy gasp and then call on the girl that was with him. Rose could hear her in the room as well, but she seemed to have been far off. She could hear them talk as she sneaked over to the front door:

“Allison! Did you see anything move in the mirror. I swear to God I saw something. Rose? Was that you?”

Rose gasped slightly and decided she would make a break for it. She pulled the door handle, but the intruders had apparently locked the doors so she couldn’t get out. She began to hear footsteps coming closer, so she ran as fast as she could towards the only place she knew she could hide out or at least get out through a backway: The basement.

She could already hear voices downstairs as she made her way to the basement. As opposed to the people upstairs the pair in the basement were just sitting around opposite each other. Rose felt confused at what she saw, but she still kept her distance. As she tried to sneak her way past them, she noticed a bunch of weird tools sitting on the ground between them. Something that looked like a Dictaphone and a weird gadget with blinking lights. It was starting to get really weird, maybe those people weren’t there to kidnap her, maybe they were just part of some weird cult and they wanted to sacrifice her in some freak ritual. Wanting nothing to do with it, she made her way to a door all the way back in the basement. The people there didn’t seem to mind her, so she felt a bit bolder and tried to open the door, but as she got it open it slipped through her fingers and slammed shut. Rose couldn’t believe how stupid she was. She heard the two people behind her stand up and shout out:

“Rose?!”

She turned around slowly fearing the worst, but when she looked at the people it was like they didn’t look exactly at her. Although one of them had a camera pointed right at her, it looked like they couldn’t see her. They called out again as they came closer to her.

“Rose? Was that you?” 

They still came closer and closer as Rose was frozen in place. Scared to move in case they just couldn’t see her in the dark. But as one of them came close enough to almost touch her. He stopped and held a hand in front of himself. It hovered just in front of Rose without touching her. 

“Hey, Troy? I think I feel a cold spot here. Do you think she’s actually in here with us?”

Strangely enough he sounded a lot more scared than she felt. She slowly reached her hand out to try and touch his arm, but it was like he was made of water as her hand simply passed through him. Something happened as he recoiled back with a shriek:

“Something just touched me, man!”

Rose was more confused at this point than scared. Could these people really not see her? Who were they and why couldn’t she touch them? A voice came in through the radio they were carrying and asked them to regroup, saying:

“I’m pretty sure we’ve all seen some weird shit. I’d say it’s definitely haunted.”

The two guys hurried to gather up their tools and almost ran back up the stairs. Rose could hear the group talk a bit before they began to walk all over the house, possibly to collect all the cameras and then the door slammed. As she walked up to the entrance she pulled aside the curtains and watched the cars drive off into the night. She couldn’t help but think how bizarre the whole situation had been. She had never seen a ghost in all the years she had lived in the house.


	27. Day 27: Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayato is an idol otaku living alone in Tokyo. His favorite group is Stoker and especially the idol Kurumi, who he met exactly one year ago.

Hayato had a very simple daily routine. He was unemployed, so he would wake up when his phone started to sound off with notifications coming in from social media and his online friends. All of that had to wait until he had logged on Twitter to scroll through whatever tweets he had missed from his favorite idol, Kurumi. She was part of the group, Stoker, where all the members were themed after classic movie monsters. Since Kurumi was the leader she was the vampire of course. Hayato knew everything there was to know about her. Her birthday was October 31st, Halloween. Her blood type was O Negative and she was born in Sapporo, Hokkaido, but she had moved to Tokyo at a young age. Her actual age had been kept a secret, but rumors online estimated her to be around 24, which was only a few years younger than Hayato. Whenever he was done liking the tweets he had missed during the night he would always find her daily ‘good morning’-tweet where she would always jokingly refer to her followers as feeding bags. He wanted her to be the first thing he saw in the morning and the last he saw when he fell asleep. His one room apartment was decently organized, but his walls were adorned with posters of the group and even more with Kurumi herself. One shelf was filled with CD’s from the group and a couple of cheki folders, where he kept his pictures. He always felt proud that he never fell into the hikikomori trap of living as a disgusting shut in even though he rarely got out for anything other than live shows or events and the necessary shopping trip. A regular trip for him was down to the local convenience store to get some breakfast. While he sat on his bed eating his discount breakfast, he checked in with his fellow otakus to discuss the plans for the day. To most of them it was business as usual. They would meet outside the live house as one of them went for a drinks run. It was somehow never Hayato, but he didn’t mind that at all. Normally he was not the most social, but standing around with the other fans, he could at least feel like he was part of something. He noticed the group chat was blowing up more than usual, but apparently it was just a newbie, who was going to his first live event. Hayato smiled and remembered when he had been the young new guy a year ago. The first time he had seen Kurumi, he knew exactly that she was someone he would stay close to. Some of the guys could get a little lewd, but that was never how he saw it. He wanted to be able to hold her hand and tell her how much he enjoyed her music and her personality. The first time he held her hand, he had felt a deep connection between them. She had been so sincerely happy that he could almost feel it as if her emotions were his own. He would always remember how her red hair had matched perfectly with the lipstick she was wearing. Her almost black eyes had been staring intently at him while he was talking to her and he felt she had been genuinely interested in him, especially when he said it was his first time seeing them live. She had convinced him to get a photo taken with her and at first he felt weird about it, but then he slowly started to carry it around in his phone case. It was a nice reminder of their first encounter and he could always look back at it if he felt a bit down. After that first encounter he started to go to more and more live shows and it slowly became a regular part of his lifestyle. It was almost a complete change from how he was before. He had been more restless and all over the place, but now he had a purpose to get up in the morning and get out into the world. It was all thanks to Kurumi.

After finishing his breakfast and spending some time on Twitter and social media, he went to a local bath house to freshen up. It was a special day after all for him. It had been exactly one year since the first time he went to see Stoker and met Kurumi for the first time. He wanted to make sure he looked fresh and clean for her. Afterwards he met up with his friends in front of the live house. Some of them noticed his fresh look and teased him a bit for playing it up for Kurumi. Some of the more disgusting guys made equally disgusting remarks:

“You hoping to score, maybe? I think I heard she agreed to meet with a fan once.” 

Hayato shook his head at their stupid attempt at starting drama, but the last part somehow made his heart skip a beat. What if she actually had met a fan before? Would he even have a chance? He realized he wasn’t exactly attractive, but compared to some of the pigs also standing in line, he was not a bad catch either. The thought stuck with him all the way into the live house until he stood in front of the stage and the lights turned off. A loud, dramatic voice blared out from the speakers:

“What’s up, my feeding bags?”

Out on stage came three girls all in elaborate costumes. Hayato really didn’t care about the other two girls that much, but they seemed to have their own fans, so it was all good. Kurumi had her crowd work down and spotted Hayato immediately giving him a smile with those perfect white teeth and that amazing red lipstick. Since she was the leader, she mostly took point in opening the show and reached out to touch as many people as possible while she screamed into her microphone:

“You fuckers ready to rock?!” 

At this point the crowd was already going insane, Hayato included. People were jumping, pushing and yelling along to the garage rock sound the girls were known for. At times the girls would jump into the crowd and start mosh pits, much to the delight of many fans. Hayato was pleased to see that Kurumi was doing her best to look at him when she danced and even waved at him at times. He could feel how his energy bubbled up wanting to be released in an explosive display. Joining the fray he couldn’t stop himself from feeling the music and moving to the frantic rhythm. It continued for an almost excruciating half hour of high energy songs back to back, which whipped the audience until everybody was weak and sweaty. At this point the girls stopped the concert to let their fans know about the upcoming events and the handshake session that always happened afterwards. Hayato was really looking forward to his moments with Kurumi, so he quickly went to the bathroom to make sure he looked fine after all the sweaty dancing and jumping. Satisfied with his look, he went to stand in line for Kurumi. It was always weird for him, since he had to come up with something interesting to tell her in the short amount of time he had with her, but it always seemed like she caught on to it and turned it into a conversation. Finally it was his turn and even before he was all the way over to Kurumi, she was already smiling and almost jumping with glee to see him. He wondered where she got all the energy from having just performed. He would easily have been completely tired at this point. Kurumi grabbed his hand almost before he could reach out and even gave it a little squeeze. He wanted to say something, but Kurumi cut him off. She stared into his eyes and held his hand tight as she whispered sweetly:

“Shh… just be quiet and take it easy.”

Hayato already felt tired from the concert, but for some reason his body felt heavier than before and his thoughts actually started to feel slow and cloud in his mind. It all felt fuzzy everywhere around him except for right in front of him where Kurumi stood. She smiled again and squeezed his hand once more while she continued:

“I’m not draining a lot, I love you after all. And you love me, so you’ll give me a bit of your life force, right?”

Hayato could feel a sensation almost like being drunk as his legs felt a bit wobbly and his stomach turned slightly. Kurumi put her other hand on top of his and turned her head slightly as she looked at him sweetly. She pulled him a bit closer and he couldn’t help but step forward. Now they were almost face to face and she held him captive with her gaze again as she whispered:

“Alright, thank you so much, Hayato-san. Listen, when I let go you will ask for a picture with me and we will have talked about how it’s the one year anniversary of us meeting and you will feel happy that you came here. You can’t wait to see me next week.”

Hayato nodded slightly, but he was unsure what was happening at this point, yet somehow her words dug into his brain, past what he could actively see and hear and all the way into some subconscious place. Kurumi giggled happily and took a step back as she let go of his hand.

Once Hayato was outside the live house he felt happy and excited. It had been such a cool concert and Kurumi had even remembered that it had been one year since they first met. He was holding a small instant photo in his hand that commemorated their latest meeting. His fellow otakus were already beginning to disperse and make their way to other events or home, so he decided to put the picture with the first one he had taken with Kurumi. Looking at both he noticed how similar the poses were in both of them. Both him and Kurumi had even worn the same clothes in both of them. He chuckled a bit and made a mental note to buy some new clothes, but then he noticed a difference. It was very small, but comparing the two pictures side by side he couldn’t help but wonder, when did he manage to lose that much weight?


	28. Day 28: Float

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is dared by a friend to try a sensory deprivation tank, but he has his reservations about it.

George had never been afraid of trying new things, but when his friend had recommended a sensory deprivation tank he had some reservations. He never really liked being in the dark, but he wasn’t sure it was an actual fear. But needless to say he did not feel comfortable in complete darkness. After having heard some more from his friend about how it would help him relax and tune him out from the world, he started to think that it would be nice to turn off everything around him for a while. He wasn’t the type that was glued to his phone, but he would find himself thoughtlessly scrolling through endless feeds of random nonsense that mostly just depressed him. So when he was asked to turn off his phone and lock it away he was strangely happy to oblige. After being escorted to a small room with a shower and a large closed tank, he was encouraged to try the session without any clothes as it would only cling to him and distract him otherwise. He was assured that no one would be in the tank or be able to watch what goes on in the tank, so he should not worry about being seen. George wasn’t a prude, so he decided to just roll with it. He had made it this far, so he wanted the full experience. Before he was left alone in the room he was told a brief couple of things, like showering before entering the tank and he even had a chance to see the inside of the tank. It all became less and less mysterious to him the more he was told. Ultimately he was told that he would have 90 minutes in the tank, which was the recommended time for a first time floater. George chuckled a bit at the name, but wondered how he could even spend that long in a dark box half filled with water. He had put in ear plugs before he even got in the shower to try and get used to the silence, so after he had dried himself off it was time to enter the tank. Opening the door he noticed that it was pretty spacious in there. The air felt a bit humid, but he was told that would be expected. The first thing he felt as he got into the water was the temperature. It didn’t feel warm, but it wasn’t cold either. He had thought it would be something like a jacuzzi, but it was just the right temperature to sit in. He decided to take it slow and feel around the water and look at the inside of the tank to familiarize himself with it, but seeing nothing interesting he made the decision of closing the door. After the last few rays of light were snuffed out he was left in complete darkness. For some reason he had thought he would be able to see the water, but he could only kind of feel it around his arms and legs as he sat on all fours. He tried to reach his hand out and grabbed one of the walls of the tank to make sure it was still there and after confirming it, he felt ready to begin. He gently laid down on his back and could easily feel how his body stayed buoyant with no effort from himself. He could simply let himself go. He wanted to close his eyes, but everything was so dark it almost didn’t make a difference. He let himself relax completely and float off into the void.

George suddenly opened his eyes and gasped. How long had he been in the tank? He tried to stretch out his arms, but he couldn’t feel the sides of the tank. His body felt light and floaty like the water and air around him was one combined atmosphere that he was simply encased inside. He could feel his eyes move about but there was only the dark anywhere he looked. Slowly the darkness began to swirl in front of his eyes. It started to take on shapes and forms. Morphing in from one thing to another right in front of his eyes. Even though his eyes perceived the swirling shapes, his mind still had problems making sense of them. He tried to sit up so he could get out of the tank, but it just felt like his body rotated in the floating space around him without anything solid underneath to ground him back into reality. He was locked in and could only watch as the void around him continued to change and come undone. The forms and shapes soon began to turn into outlines of faces that moved their lips, but he couldn’t hear or understand what they were saying to him. He tried to recollect, but the faces were unknown to him. Some of them were grotesquely distorted either by his mind failing to comprehend what he was seeing or by whatever had conjured them into shape. Most were human, but some of them gradually changed into a beastly appearance that George had only seen in horror movies. Some were laughing, some were crying and some were screaming, but all were silent to him. Suddenly they all dispersed as flashes of white light flickered across his eyes turning the dark void into a starlit sky. But just as fast as the stars had been lit in front of him they were just as soon snuffed out, but branches of darkness that shot across his eyes again. This time it was not creating shapes or faces, but swirling vines and feelers swaying above him. He still tried to move, but nothing could be done. He was still frozen, forced to witness the weird cosmic spectacle unfold in front of him. His mind slowly filled with suggestions and tiny revelations about events he had heard about and events that were yet to come. But as he began to form those thoughts in his head the swirling feelers shifted from floating around in front of him to turning towards him. It seemed like they were swimming forward trying to reach him, but it felt like hours before they could reach him. He tried to lift his hand to reach out to it, but right as his fingertips connected he felt a jolt pass through his body and he opened his eyes a second time. 

Sitting up in the lukewarm water, he felt his mind slowly reorganize itself as he slowly felt his way towards the door out. Pushing it open he almost tripped out of the tank, since his legs almost couldn’t handle the sudden weight of his body. Supporting himself against walls and furniture he scrambled out into the hallway and was quickly tended to by a staff member that ran over with a blanket to cover him up. The staff member was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear anything. He only saw the world around him slowly being rebuilt in his mind to match what he was supposed to see. Finally he managed to control his body enough to unplug one of his ears and in a tired voice he exclaimed:

“Maybe 90 minutes is a bit rough for a beginner like me.”

The staff member looked confused and then turned to a clock on the wall. He looked back and helped George to stand, then he spoke, but his voice sounded so foreign and otherworldly in his head:

“Dude, you were in there for 10 minutes…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I need a bit of extra behind the scenes stuff on this.   
> I actually wanted to write this more like George tapped into a weird cosmic energy that was the reason for a lot of the horrible events that had happened in these stories. But I was afraid to make it too explicit or make the references to other stories too apparent, especially if someone hadn't read the particular story. George would be cursed with the knowledge of this other worldly being that had manipulated the laws of nature and changed the world into something vastly different and he would be the only one to see it. 
> 
> Maybe I'll come back to that idea, when I get a chance to look at these stories again.


	29. Day 29: Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yua has lost her husband in a divorce, when she was unable to have a child. Trying to deal with the loss she retreats to a cottage in the countryside, but suddenly she notices a pair of children's shoes.

The divorce had been hard on Yua. She wanted so bad to be the perfect housewife and make a family with Hideki. She knew he needed to work late to make sure there was a steady income, so they could live together in their Tokyo apartment. She gave herself to him, when he wanted it, but for whatever reason she could never become pregnant. She tried to consult multiple doctors, but no one had any answers for her. They all told her nothing was wrong and she should just give it another try. Her husband had taken that as his cue to have his way with her whenever he wanted to, since he reasoned that if they did it more often it might actually stick. When she had finally become pregnant it had been a dream come true. For a while the home had been peaceful. Hideki had come home earlier than normal to make sure he could help out and Yua was so excited to finally have a beautiful child. The dream only lasted until the cramps and bleeding started. When she finally went to see a doctor it was already too late. She had suffered a miscarriage. It shattered her world. Hideki started coming home later, sometimes staying out all night. Since she wasn’t pregnant she could easily do the housework herself again. She slaved away at the apartment to make sure it was nice and clean for when Hideki would finally come home. When he was home, she was like air to him. She had asked to try for another baby, but he would reject her, saying he was tired after work or he felt sick. It all made her feel dirty and broken, like she was a doll he had played with until she had gone soft and limp and then just tossed her aside. It was a horribly long month before he finally acknowledged her and told her he wanted a divorce. He had fallen in love with another and wanted her out of his apartment. He was compassionate to her situation and gave her a week to gather her things, so she could find somewhere else to stay. 

Her parents did not have the means to put her up, but a friend of the family was kind enough to lend Yua a small cottage far out into the countryside. She was grateful to have a place to stay even if it was far away from Tokyo. She had managed to borrow a car from her parents to use as she would need to get all her stuff out quickly. She had tried to make the small cottage as homely as she could with the limited items she had. It was an old cottage with partitions to act as makeshift walls although it was nothing more than a small room where she slept and a small nook with a kitchenette. The partitions were made with old rice paper that had holes in them or were otherwise see through. The roof was raised with beams going across and crude light bulbs had been hung up to offer Yua some light. She had promised the owners of the place that she would do her best to search for a job and be out of the place as soon as possible. And after the first night she figured she would not want to stay at a place like that more than she had to. She had been woken up by small footsteps running around the terrace surrounding the cottage. It could have easily been an animal, but it didn’t end there. Having nowhere to go she spent the day trying to look for job listings or talk to her parents or the bank over the phone to see if either of them would lend her some money. Having just been denied a loan from the bank she had decided to take a break and make herself some tea to calm down. As she walked past the entrance towards her kitchenette, she noticed something out the corner of her eyes. Next to her shoes were a pair of small children's shoes. She only registered that they were there after she had walked past and as she looked back to check she saw only her own. She was sure it was her mind telling her to rest for the day, so she rolled up in a futon after drinking her tea and relaxed while listening to some music playing from her phone. Night rolled around and just like last time she heard the small footsteps again. This time they didn’t run, but walked from far around the house and closer to her. Yua was woken completely when she heard a sliding door open on the other side of the rice paper partition that she had closed to make her bedroom smaller. She quickly grabbed her phone and turned the flashlight on searching around the room. She was still alone, but the footsteps were still coming closer. Instead of feet against the old wood outside it was more hushed like a child walking across tatami mats. Shining her light in the direction of the sound she could just make out a small figure through the rice paper. It was drifting along the partition almost as if it was a shadow being projected from a doll. She followed it with her flashlight until it moved past one of the holes in the paper. Yua almost dropped her phone, when she saw the deathly pale face of a little girl look back through the hole. She couldn’t stop herself from screaming at the sight, but when she closed her eyes and looked again the little girl was gone. She went through the entire cottage to look for any sign that there had been something inside with her, but there was nothing. Not even any open door outside. Still Yua didn’t sleep anymore that night. As the sun came up, she could finally breathe easy and as the cottage filled with light she felt comfortable enough to walk around again. She could feel that her lack of sleep was making it harder for her to concentrate, so she went ahead and made some tea to wake herself up. Walking past the entrance however she made a note to look over at her shoes, but nothing was there except for her own. Relieved she began to make herself some tea and as it was brewing, she warmed her hands on the ceramic cup and walked back into the part of the house she had designated as her bedroom to open up the partitions and let in some air. After she slid the partition open she noticed something by the rice door leading out to the wooden terrace. A pair of children’s shoes, neatly placed by the door. Looking at them closer than she had been able to before she could see that they were stained with blood. Without a second thought she opened the door outside and kicked the shoes as far away as she could. Hiding back inside she could not believe her own eyes. She had resorted to closing off every door and sliding open every partition so she had a full view of the cottage interior. She thought about just getting in her car and leaving the place, but where would she go? Her parents couldn’t help her and she could not go back to Hideki. Not anymore. She was forced to remain in the cottage where her mind slowly darkened along with the approaching nightfall. 

She hadn’t moved from her spot in the middle of the cottage since that morning when she had kicked the shoes out. Looking over at the spot they had been she could still see traces of blood to remind her that they had been there and not just her tired mind messing with her. She couldn’t get her body to move, every time she tried she would just end up shivering with her arms wrapped around her legs as her eyes slowly paced from left to right and back again, endlessly. The lights in the cottage had been on all day and lit up the singular room, but still she could hear the approaching footsteps. This time they came from inside the cottage. From all around her. Under the floor, from the beams above her. She tried to follow the sound with her eyes, but everytime she zeroed in on it, it started to come from another place of the cottage. She was brought to tears as her exhausted mind was unable to handle it anymore. But just as she was on the verge of wailing in despair the footsteps suddenly stopped somewhere in front of her. Looking up through teary eyes, she saw a pale girl standing in front of her at first she looked like any regular little girl, but as she wiped her tears she began to notice some details. Her clothes were dirty and dyed with red splatters. What Yua had assumed was a cocked head turned out to be a broken neck evident by the shard of bone sticking out the side. The little girl had hidden one arm behind her back, but as she lifted both her arms towards Yua, it became clear that the arm she had hidden was mangled in several places and bent unnaturally to the side. Yua was absolutely frozen in fear at that point, she could only watch in horror as the girl stepped closer into the light. Her small blood stained shoes left traces of blood splatter behind her and every step she took made small amounts of blood dribble out from any opening available. Yua looked back up at the little girl’s face that was partially hidden by her messy black hair. Moving almost involuntarily Yua leaned forward and reached out with a trembling hand and brushed away the hair in front of the girl’s face revealing a bloody mess as if her face had been through a meat grinder. Even through the viscera, Yua immediately recognized the little girl. She quickly withdrew her hand and scrambled backwards as the memory played in her head.

She had just packed her last things into the car and drove away from the apartment. She had only been driving for a short while before she noticed Hideki walked towards the apartment with a woman Yua had never seen before. Walking with them was a little girl, no more than 2 or 3 years old. Both Hideki and the woman had stopped briefly at a newspaper stand, but the little girl had wandered off. Right over to the edge of the road. Yua had wanted to just drive by and leave Hideki in the past as he would slowly disappear in her rear view mirror, but an uncontrollable hatred had bubbled up inside her. He had destroyed her life and used her, even though he had this perfect little girl already. All the nights she had just closed her eyes and let him have his way with him all the while he had someone waiting for him that had already given him what he wanted from her. In a weak moment she turned the steering wheel and turned the car towards the little girl bending down right by the road. 

She remembered that she had only stopped the car, when she reached the cottage. As the memory stuck itself in her brain, she broke down and shrieked in terror and despair. She wanted solace and comfort from the girl in front of her, but she remained unmoving, unblinking as she was just out of reach from Yua’s desperate attempt to grab out after her. If anybody had been nearby they would have heard her mad screams, but her cries simply rang out into the night. 

As police officers entered the cottage they were met with a gruesome sight. Yua was hanging by her neck from one of the beams in the middle of the cottage. A dried pool of blood and bodily fluids had formed underneath her, but right below her feet in the middle of the stain were a pair of neatly placed and remarkably clean children's shoes . 


	30. Day 30: Ominous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry is slowly starting to realize that there might be more to his world. Something is changing his world and it has begun to do so at a rapid pace.

They should have seen the signs. Although some were insignificant or seemed random at the time looking back it was unnatural. People could not simply turn to stone or be a part of some secret artistic vampire society in Paris. It had all been happening for so long that it just seemed like how the world was put together. 

Henry exhaled loudly and rubbed his forehead. He had been strained all day from working with James in the morgue and now he was sitting by the computer in a dark office deep underground. He had been logging his research and weird cases he had encountered in his work. For some reason it had turned into a sort of passion project for him. Some mysterious force in him had gripped him and turned him on that path. A path that had led him to strange findings like mysterious disappearances, conspiracy theories and horrible crimes happening all over the world. Most of it had come about through various online acquaintances and chat groups. He felt validated in his concerns knowing that others were seeing the same as him. It was against regulation, but sometimes he would stay at the office all night to be able to chat with people. Normally a morgue would be the last place you would want to spend the night, but Henry found the place to be strangely calm and quiet. It was the perfect countermeasure to the chaotic events he was hearing and reading about. He had been escorting James to a nearby archaeological site that had been abandoned for decades when a body had turned up. That body had turned out to be the start of a mass grave, where over a dozen bodies turned up at various places. The worst part was how Henry had noticed there was just the faintest whisper in the air like the wind was talking to him. It had continued even as he drove some of the bodies back to the morgue. That unintelligible whisper that was almost drowned out by the engine and the music from his radio, but still noticeable enough to stick out in the ambience. Right as he had wheeled the bodies into the morgue it had stopped again and just as always everything remained dead silent. 

It had started with a small rumble, like an earthquake far away, but everything in the morgue had remained still. The rumble was enough to wake Henry from his nap on the couch in his office. He made his way into the hallway and tried to follow the sound, but it was too quiet to pinpoint. On his way he saw James walk in the opposite direction seemingly unaffected by the sound. When Henry inquired about it, James had simply shrugged it off and walked away. Henry soon realized the rumbling had trailed off and had been replaced by a slow metallic clanging, that Henry recognized as the metal doors closing in refrigerated units, where they stored the bodies. But no one would be there, since James had just gone past him and they were the only ones down there. A thought occurred to him and he looked at his clock. It was 4:37 in the morning. James should not even be in the morgue at this hour. He turned around to make sure he hadn’t accidentally misidentified someone as his colleague, but he was all alone in the long hallway. He was about to blame his unhealthy sleeping habits, but at this point he was really starting to doubt what was real and not. Turning his attention back to the metallic sound, he made his way to the refrigerated room, but just before he could enter, the sound stopped. Turning on the light to the cold room he managed to catch a latch to one of the units slowly close. Henry knew for a fact that the unit in question was empty, so he went over and locked the latch in place. For a moment everything was quiet like he was used to, but that soon changed when he started to hear the wheels of gurneys squeaking from a room over and uneasy footsteps move about. He didn’t have any time to think it over before everything was drowned out in an ear-piercing siren going off. The shock from the sudden noise made him jump as he backed into the middle of the room. Looking out into the hallway he caught a glimpse of someone walking past, but Henry couldn’t see who it was. He hurried out of the room and back into the hallway, but just like before it was completely empty. The unending noise of the siren felt almost disorienting to him as he stumbled through the hall. He couldn’t help but feel like something was seriously weird. Making his way back to his office he went on his computer to check with people online, but nothing seemed to be going on in other places. Despite the siren he could still hear footsteps walking around in front of the door to his office, so he almost missed a message rolling in about a rumble and a siren going off. It was from a friend a state over, so whatever was starting to happen had spread at least a state over. Soon more people chimed in, whatever it was, it was spreading fast. The distracting footsteps became too much for him so he ran to the door and flung it open, but yet again the hallway was empty. This time he did still hear the footsteps all around him, but whatever was doing this had a bigger hold on him. The walls and roof of the hallway suddenly felt very heavy and restricting to him. Even though he had walked there countless times before he suddenly had a hard time recognizing where he was. It felt like some unseen presence filled the place with a heavy sense of dread and terror, spreading like a gas throughout the rooms of the morgue. Henry’s mind was bombarded with visions of hatred, fear and pain. It only intensified as he ran towards the exit. Just like in the dig site he started to hear voices whisper from the rooms as he passed them. Sometimes when he walked by he would spot James in various stages of distress or see bodies sit up on gurneys or slowly crawl or shamble around. But none of them paid him any mind although he was running and hollering like a madman. Even though how much he ran he could never seem to really shake that horrible feeling in the back of his mind. That little voice that whispered terrible things to him. Unsure how he did it, he had made his way to the roof of the building overlooking the city. Surprisingly he found James standing there already gazing at the sky. Henry cautiously approached him, but kept his distance, having just witnessed the same man standing in front of him being torn apart downstairs multiple times over. He hesitated a bit, but eventually found the words to say:

“James, I think I’ve figured it out.”

James just smiled in response, but kept his eye on the stars above. Henry, still battling with contradicting thoughts in his mind, tried his best to separate what he thought was the foreign influence from his own thoughts and theories. 

“This world, our world. It’s not supposed to be like this. I think some… thing has changed the way our world works. It started out slowly, you know. To test what would happen if something would change just a bit, but it’s been building up to something! All the horrible cases that we’ve heard about through the years. This thing, whatever it is, seems to be the connection to it all. It pushes the boundaries of nature. Messes with our minds. But-”

Henry was interrupted, when James suddenly began to move. He turned his head towards Henry, but it was like he looked straight through him. Like they were separated by a window that was opaque and transparent all at once. No matter how hard Henry tried to wrap his mind around it, he was unable to process what emotions he was feeling. Straining himself to keep his mind from shattering it finally dawned upon him:

“This is not my world. I’m on the other side of the barrier. James and everybody else are in a world you created… A world you will destroy.”

Henry finally looked up to the sky that James had looked at as well, when the rumbling that started the whole cataclysm threatened to shake the building he was standing on to its core. Watching the sky he could finally see it. The otherworldly being that had changed his world into an unnatural and cruel reality. A behemoth that loomed over the night sky covering all the stars and spread itself across the horizon in every direction. And now just like Henry, it was watching the oncoming chaos from beyond. Unable to control himself any longer and faced with the knowledge of events that would in time destroy the world just beyond his reach proved too much for him. He wanted to laugh and cry, but it was like his body refused to acknowledge his emotions and left him to simply scream as he watched through the barrier how the first event had started a slow but inevitable path towards a planet that would eventually tear itself apart over and over again. 


	31. Day 31: Crawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila grew up in a small village that sudden gets infected by waves of bugs. She returns to help out with finding a cause for it.

The constant buzzing of insects was enough to drive a person mad, yet the small village in Kenya had to endure it all year around. Mila had grown up in the very same village, but she was one of the few who had been given a chance to educate herself. With the help of British missionaries she had been taken from a life that would have amounted to little more than farming and raising a family and instead she had been enrolled in school and through hard work she had found her calling as a nurse and translator for doctors who were unable to speak or understand Swahili. She had not thought about her old village in a while before someone had mentioned a weird phenomenon going on there. Not long after she had left the village there had been a wave of locusts coming in from the Sahara. The warm weather had kept them from leaving again, so they had simply remained and continued to breed. The villagers had been powerless to stop them, but they had nowhere else to go, so they had stayed in their homes trying to wait out the infestation. But instead of the locusts slowly dying out it appeared that more insects had descended upon the small village. A small group of doctors and scientists had been called in to research the strange event and Mila had been asked to join them considering she had personal knowledge of the area and spoke the language. Before they left she had been interviewed about the land her village was built on and how long it had been there. But she and the scientists had no clue what could have caused it, so they decided to get out there as soon as possible. Mila was told that she was not essential to the research side, so she was free to help out the doctors and her people most of the time. Even though the remarks had made her feel less significant, she was grateful that she could direct herself to more pressing matters like tending to the sick. 

The first thing Mila noticed as she stepped out of the car was the constant buzzing from wings swarming all around the village. It was almost deafening at first, but as she started to help out with setting up the research station and talking to the locals, it quickly became a constant white noise that went through her head unnoticed. Walking through the village she was horrified to see how people would go about their daily chores like normally, but covered in insects. They were crawling in and out of clothes and moving across every exposed piece of skin they could find. In the houses she saw people sleeping on top of bugs instead of blankets. Looking at the empty sleeping spots she could see that layers of bugs had been stomped flat to create a crusty discolored mess the size of a human being. When she stuck her head completely inside the hut, she was hit by the smell. Like a sickly sweet, rotten fruit smell emanating from the crushed bugs. It was strong enough to make her gag and retreat from the hut. Looking around the village she could not believe that it had come to this. Her former home reduced to a filthy infestation of bugs. Moving further along she watched a woman walk by carrying her young child. Although it was riddled with bugs swarming all over it, it didn’t seem to mind or cry. It just stared at Mila as they walked by. The look that child gave her, made her skin crawl even more than the bugs swarming her everywhere she went and she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than she initially thought. Her walk through the village was cut short by a cry of despair from a woman sitting in an open hut. In front of her on another one of the bug blankets was a young boy around 9 or 10. Mila couldn’t see if he was moving or not for all the bugs scurrying about his body giving off the impression that he was anything but completely still. Kneeling down next to the boy she saw that the swarm had almost completely overtaken him. Bugs were crawling into every single opening they could find, his mouth, ears and nostrils, but Mila could only watch in horror as a locust pushed its way around his unblinking eye and flew off. She was sure the poor boy had died due to his lack of reactions, but to her surprise his chest was still rising as he took in air somehow. She could only calm the distressed woman down and reassure her that her boy was still alive, but in the back of her mind she could not shake the feeling that it was medically impossible for the boy to still be breathing. She made a note to check back later, but for now she wanted to check in with her family. 

She opened the door to the hut where her parents lived and saw the same as everywhere else. Bugs swarming all over the floor and walls and the same crusty sheets of dried bugs sprawled on the floor. Sitting by the fireplace in the middle were her parents, but she almost could see it was them on account of the bugs obscuring every feature of their faces and bodies. Mila decided to call out to them and see if they needed help:

“Baba, Mama? It’s Mila. Do you need any help?”

Both shapes in front of her looked up at her at the same time and answered in unison:

“Who?”

Mila was about to move closer to them, but something about their eyes seemed different. It was obviously their eyes, but it was like something deeper inside was wrong like something had taken over their bodies from the inside. As she turned around to walk out the hut, she saw that a couple of villagers had blocked her way out. They were all old friends, but they looked at her like she was a complete stranger. The same way her parents had looked at her as well. She tried to put some distance between her and the people coming into the hut, but there was nowhere for her to run. As the people closed in on her, she could see the bugs swarming into and out of their mouths and ears. Feeling the bugs begin to crawl over her skin she moved her hand to swat them away, but was faced with the terrifying discovery that the crawling sensation wasn’t on her skin. It was under. 


End file.
